


Fade to Black

by bbelle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awesome Sam, Bisexuality, Coming Out, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Genderswap, M/M, My First Fanfic, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:49:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbelle/pseuds/bbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean always told himself that his feelings for Cas were brotherly. But now that Cas was temporarily parked in a hot female body, he couldn't deny it any longer. Which raised all sorts of issues, not the least of which was what would happen when Cas returned to his old form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drifting Further Every Day

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place towards the end of Season 8, alternative ending to episode 8.21 The Great Escapist. Marked explicit for future chapters.

They’d rushed him to the hospital, at a loss for what else to do. This was a situation no one had anticipated, and if there were instructions for situations like this, they were most likely on the tablet that had just been pried from Castiel’s newly brutalized body. 

Perhaps if they’d had an angel on hand, the damage could have been undone with one glowing touch. Instead they were left to look helplessly upon the split stomach and torn spine of their angel. Something was clearly lodged in his head too, leaving him completely unresponsive. Yet he continued with shallow breaths, the only signal that there was still anything like life in this form. 

Maybe it would have been better if he were simply dead. Then maybe he would be raised up again, stroll up to them or show up mysteriously walking on the side of the road someday. True, Naomi and her flunkies wouldn’t be raising him now, but Dean had come to believe that someone would, that Cas would never just stay dead.

But what about this? He was dead and not dead at the same time, and somehow that was much, much worse. 

So Dean and Sam brought his torn form to a nearby hospital, and prayed – though they weren’t sure to whom they were praying – that the doctors could somehow heal this vessel well enough that it would allow the angel to take control and complete the healing process. 

Days passed. Dean knew that he and Sam should keep working. As usual, the fate of the world seemed to hang on their actions, though whether it was their undue burden to keep saving the world, or their fault for endangering it in the first place, he wasn’t quite sure. But so much was wrong, and now that the King of Hell was collecting the Word of God, things were about to get a helluvalot wronger. 

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Cas. Not like this. And though the goal of closing the gates of Hell was one that was easily worth all their lives, he also couldn’t bring himself to keep pushing Sam through the trials that were clearly killing him. He couldn’t lose them both. He’d already lost so much, and as much as he knew that shutting up Hell was theoretically more important than a few lives, he didn’t think he could go on trying to save this world if the last two things he cared about were no longer in it. 

Though they both knew that it was probably futile, maybe even more futile than trying to get medical care for an angel, Dean had convinced Sam to have the doctors look at him. It only made sense. They were stuck in the hospital anyway, and it was obvious to anyone who looked at them that Sam needed help. Even if they couldn’t give him the help he really needed, perhaps they could do something to slow down the deterioration, and to ease his pain. 

They’d managed to get Cas and Sam in the same room, so Dean could visit with them both. Dean tried his best to keep Sam’s spirits up, donning the casual, cocky swagger that he usually adopted when things got tough. Under normal circumstances, Sam would have called him out on it, tried to have a chick flick moment and tell him that he should stop pretending everything was okay. But Sam was tired, not to mention blissed out on pain medication, and he seemed to be enjoying this throwback to Dean’s facsimile of his posturing pre-Apocalyptic self. To be honest, Dean was enjoying it too. At least, as much as he could enjoy anything in this completely fucked situation. 

Grab what you can out of life while you have it, right? This was his logic behind decimating the hospital vending machine, getting practically one of every type of candy and a couple of drinks, pretending half of it was for Sam even though he knew Sam probably wouldn’t touch the stuff. Well, he could eat it all himself. Small joys. He scooped up his armful of candy, barely keeping it together while his hands clutched a soda and a large bottle of Gatorade. 

Clutching this precarious pile of sugar, he slowly shuffled over to the room, relieved to find the door open so he didn’t have to fumble with the doorknob, but surprised to see a voluptuous brunette in a royal blue blouse and black pencil skirt leaning over Sam’s bed. The two seemed to be deep in conversation. Who was this chick? 

She didn’t look like a nurse, though Dean felt the side of his mouth curve upward as he thought about how her curves would look squeezed into the kind of vinyl white nurse’s uniform that college girls wear on Halloween. He made a mental note to save that image for later, when he had some alone time, and then noisily plopped his sugary goods onto an empty chair and sauntered up to Sam’s bed, rudely interrupting their conversation. 

Knowing full well that he was attempting to cock block his sick bro, he stopped Sam mid-sentence. Yeah, he was a dick. But this was what old, swaggery Dean would do. Besides, small joys, right? 

“Whatever you’re asking him, I’m sure I could give you a much more satisfying answer,” he said in a velvety voice. Then just to piss off Sam a little more, he added “You do know this guy is hopped up on pain pills, don't you? Not exactly a reliable source.” 

Instead of getting mad, though, Sam just looked at him and burst out laughing. Okay, well, glad he got a kick out of it, but it wasn’t really that funny. Guess he hadn’t been exaggerating about Sam being messed up on pain meds. Dean switched his focus back to their unexpected but more than welcome visitor, attempting to catch her eyes while flashing his most seductive and disarming smile. “Hi, I’m De-“

Her eyes. 

The world came to a stop as she raised her eyes to meet his. In some distant part of his brain, he knew that Sam was still experiencing the aftershocks of his laughing fit, but he couldn’t actually hear it. Everything had gone silent. 

He looked into her eyes – those infinite, piercing blue sapphire eyes – and even before she tilted her head slightly and gave him that familiar quizzical stare, he knew. 

“Cas?”

“Hello Dean.” 

He would say that he was in a state of disbelief, but he believed it instantly. Though the voice that had come out of this woman’s soft, plump mouth was delectably feminine, it was also indisputably Cas. It was husky – and dammit, sexy. Yet it still had the same monotone and precise pronunciation, giving equal weight to each syllable. Even if she hadn’t said a word, though, all he had to do was look into those eyes, and he’d know it couldn’t be anyone else. 

“Jesus Christ. What the hell, Cas? Is that really you?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“Yes, Dean, though I assume since you are addressing me by name you are aware that I am now inhabiting a new vessel.” 

Dean’s eyes flicked toward the body that still lay in a heap in the next bed. The body he’d been thinking of as Cas, but was really just an earthly form that he was renting. Then his eyes flicked back to Cas – the real Cas – who was standing right in front of him, still staring intently at him. “Yeah…new vessel,” he eeked out, “Nice…new…vessel.” 

At that, Sam erupted in laughter once again. Dean felt a blush creeping up his neck and undoubtedly reddening his cheeks. If he was able to take his eyes off of this new Cas for a moment, he would have glared at Sam. As it was, he was still transfixed. 

“My previous vessel had been rendered unusable, as you are no doubt aware. I located a blood relative of Jimmy Novak’s and convinced her to allow me to inhabit her form, at least until I can properly heal the previous vessel and return.” 

Blood relative. That made sense. The posture, the mannerisms, the tone of voice, they were all Cas. And the way that he – she, I guess – looked so deeply into him, he would have known it was Cas if it was an 80 year old grandmother, or a shit tzu for that matter. But beyond the unmistakable Cas-ness there were also traces of a physical resemblance to the trench coat wearing man he’d come to identify with the angel. Not least of which were those perfect blue eyes. It was comforting and yet at the same time completely unnerving. 

The silence was beginning to feel awkward as the wheels of his mind kept churning. Cas remained characteristically oblivious to social conventions that would have inspired others to insert meaningless chatter into the empty space long ago. Sam, meanwhile, just looked back and forth between the two of them, lips pressed tight as if he were stifling another laugh. Dean had to think of something to say. 

“Well, that’s great, Cas. Really terrific. Just glad you’re alive and okay.” And he meant it. The shock of seeing Cas in this new body had momentarily outweighed the relief he felt at knowing that Cas was still okay, but now he let that relief flood in. “So what now, you lay some of your magic-hand-action onto Jimmy over here and then get your Freaky Friday going?” 

“I am not certain what you mean by Freaky Friday, but yes, I do intend to lay hands on my previous vessel and heal it. I do not expect that it will be something I can do immediately, however, or something that can be completed in a single instance. His body is in very poor shape, and I am not presently at my full strength. I will wait until I have gathered my strength and then begin to facilitate the healing process. The medical professionals at this establishment appear to be doing an adequate job of preventing the body’s demise, despite the damage and the absence of any animating force, so I suggest the body remain here.” 

“Yeah, Cas, no prob. That makes sense.” He hadn’t really thought about the fact that the body, from which Jimmy Novak’s soul had long since departed, was simply empty now without Cas in it. The breathing tubes and IVs that were hooked into his flesh were the only things keeping him alive now, like an organ that’s been donated and kept on ice so that it doesn’t deteriorate before being transplanted into a new body. The entire body existed in an in-between-state, awaiting new ownership or death. 

“Of course, if I am not able to repair the body, I will have to remain in this form, though I would prefer not to compromise any more of Mr. Novak’s relatives. He has already sacrificed much.” 

“Yeah, sure, you’ve gotta get back in your old body. You know, if you can. But if not, then…” and Dean once again found himself plunged into awkward silence, as the thought of Cas permanently inhabiting this luscious figure was enough to make his brain melt. He attempted a quick and lame follow-up. “Either way, you know, good to have you back. Great to see you, whoever you’re in.” 

With that, he excused himself and rushed toward the bathroom, though he didn’t have to piss so much as just breathe. And not be in that room. Shit. What the fuck had just happened? And what was happening to him? 

Five days later, Sam was still having tests done, and Cas was strong enough to start the healing. Cas was right that it couldn’t be done in one shot, though. The three of them talked it over and Sam and Dean thought it would freak the doctors out if they suddenly found Jimmy’s body with a perfectly straight spine and smooth unblemished skin, so they opted for a more subtle route. Cas would mend just a little bit at a time, trying to mimic the natural healing process so that it would seem at most an accelerated version of the doctor’s best-case recovery scenario. 

Dean, meanwhile, found excuses to leave the hospital. He tried to rationalize it to himself. Sam and Cas had each other for company, so there was no use having him cooped up too. He checked in with Garth and Kevin Tran frequently, hoping that one of them would have a break in the case or would for some reason demand to see him immediately. But they didn’t, and he would have felt like an asshole for just leaving Sam entirely. So he went on brief outings, and spent a lot of time staring at his phone or vapidly watching the TV in the hospital waiting room. It was a far cry from his previous bedside vigil, but he knew that Sam and Cas were going to be okay, more or less, so he could relax a little, right? 

Except that he wasn’t relaxed. And even Cas the Oblivious was beginning to notice that something was off. 

Perhaps that's why he – she – ugh, Dean didn’t even know what pronoun to use in his own head so he just found himself substituting it with Cas – so perhaps that’s why Cas volunteered to join him when he popped his head into the room to tell Sam that he was going to head out for a couple of hours. 

“Oh, that’s okay Cas, I really don’t need help. I’m just gonna drive around in the Impala, you know, get some fresh air, maybe a burger.” 

“I would enjoy that as well. Do you object to my accompanying you?”

“No, of course - it’s just that we don’t want to leave Sam all alone –“ 

“I’ve got no problem with it. I was just gonna take a nap anyway.” Sam flashed a wide dopey grin, and Dean thought he could detect a hint of mischief in it. 

“Yes, I would not leave Sam had he not previously suggested I accompany you on one of your outings.” 

Suggested? Dammit, Sammy. The way Sam looked at him now, glassy-eyed and yet still so aware, made Dean want to hide under the nearest piece of furniture. Or punch Sammy in the face. 

“So it is settled then? I will join you in the Imapla.” 

Dean groaned silently, flashed mental daggers in Sam’s direction, and then reluctantly agreed. “Sure, yeah, join, whatever. Makes no difference to me.” Could this get any worse? 

Yes, yes it could. 

Right before Dean turned tail to walk out the door, Cas threw another curveball, walking over toward Jimmy’s bed and stopping to pick up the trench coat that was neatly folded on the adjacent chair. 

If Sam laughed again, Dean decided, he would just kill him right here. 

Because of course, Dean had to force himself to pretend like everything was perfectly normal, as this gorgeous figure slipped one arm, then another, into the trademark coat that had made its way to Purgatory and back. And though the experience of looking at new Cas was already unsettling, it was as if this laid the final piece in the transformation from Cas the angel/accountant to Cas the angel/crazy hot chick. 

It might have been comical to see this woman with the shining blue eyes and ever-present overcoat, looking like someone had waved a magic wand and poof – Cas has boobs. If someone had described it to Dean before, he would have thought it was hilarious. But he didn’t want to laugh. What he wanted to do, seeing that tan trench draped over this body, so much longer than the black skirt that it was almost obscene, wavy brown hair cascading down the back….well, what he wanted to do, he didn’t even want to admit to himself. Even though it was probably written all over his face, for Sam and the world to see. 

Dean had always found Cas’ cluelessness kind of endearing, even when he acted annoyed by it. But he had never so desperately hoped for Cas to remain clueless as he did now. Only there they were, standing in awkward silence yet again, and Dean couldn’t even think of something lame to say, so he just spun around and walked out the door. The click of high heels behind him told him that Cas was not far behind. 

Once they were in the car, things seemed a little better. I mean, sure there was that moment when Dean had opened the door for Cas, feeling like a complete tool for doing so, and then feeling even more ridiculous as he watched Cas sit down, skirt riding up just a little bit, showing a smooth and perfect thigh. He felt himself stiffen like a teenager on his first date, and was glad Cas couldn’t see the flush of his face as he closed the door and headed towards his side of the car. He walked slowly, taking deep breaths and trying to visualize the most gruesome scenes from his walking nightmare of a life – decapitated heads, black goo, even a few scenes from hell. That seemed to do the trick. Mostly, anyway. He was still semi-hard when he got into the car, but shit happens, right? He shifted in his seat, turned the music up as loud as he could, and began singing along. “Life it seems will fade away, drifting further every day…”

He could drive like that forever, pretending it was just him and his baby, with some random passenger in Sam’s seat that was definitely not an angel, and definitely not his angel in a sinfully delicious form. 

Of course, Cas couldn’t leave it like that. 

“Dean.” 

Sonofabitch. Dean pretended not to hear and kept singing away, adding percussive slaps to his wheel in an attempt to drown out every sound and thought. 

“Dean.” 

This is the kind of thing that made Cas’ cluelessness irritating. Sam understood that blasting music was code for “I don’t want to talk.” Most other people would at least stop if their initial attempt to engage in conversation yielded no results. But Cas was persistent. Dean knew that, so after the third time he heard his name called, he gave up and lowered the volume. 

“Yeah, Cas, what is it?” 

“You have been avoiding me.” 

Just like Cas to launch right into it, no smooth transition, no “hey, what song is this?” Let’s just dive right into the deep end, right here, right now. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“There have been many instances in the last five days in which I attempted to engage in conversation with you, and you spoke few words and then stated that you had to leave, though you had voiced no prior intentions to do so. There have also been several instances in which I was speaking with Sam and sensed your presence as you approached the door, but felt you withdraw once you came within listening range. I am not certain why this is the case, but I have not witnessed you approaching Sam’s door and then turning around in times when I am outside in the waiting area, so I am left to conclude that this is only something that you do when I am also in the room. You have also left on multiple occasions when –“ 

“Okay, okay, I get it. Alright, yeah, maybe I do know what you’re talking about. But do we really have to talk about it?” 

“We are talking about it.” 

Yeah, they were. I guess they were really going to have this conversation. Shit, were they really going to have this conversation? Dean didn’t think he could drive and simultaneously carry on some emo heart-to-heart with the new and apparently estrogen-charged Cas, so he just pulled over into a parking lot behind a shut-down shopping mart.

“So yeah, I may have been avoiding you. I’m sorry. No offense.” 

“I am not offended by you. It is I who have offended you. I understand this. I have betrayed your trust on multiple occasions, and I do not fault you for avoiding me. I only hope that I can someday make amends for my failings.”

Oh, geez. Now the guilt. “Cas, no…Cas, it’s not that.” And now, Dean couldn’t help but lift his eyes from the spot on his knee that he had been focusing intently upon and look right into his friend’s blue eyes. They were full of remorse, and Dean was tempted to reach out and hug her. Yes, it was definitely a ‘her’ now, he couldn’t deny it any longer. But he knew that touching her was the absolute last thing that he needed to do right now. So he tried to explain. “I mean, yeah, I’m disappointed that you didn’t trust me, didn’t trust us enough to let us help you protect the tablets.” 

“Yes, I see now that I was incapable of protecting the tablets on my own, and it is possible that they would have been far safer if I had agreed to your initial proposal and remained with you and Sam.”

“Well, yeah. Damn right.” 

“I am truly sorry, Dean.”

“It’s okay, Cas. I forgive you.” 

“You do?”

“Yeah. I mean, I wish you’d trusted me, but you know, at least you didn’t kill me. So there’s that.” 

“That is correct, though I did slaughter many replications of you in preparation for that confrontation.” 

“You did? What? When?”

“When I was being brainwashed by Naomi. She must have ascertained that my allegiance to you was a threat to my ability to serve her and her interests, so she forced me to kill dozens of versions of you so that I would be able to do so unthinkingly when confronted with you in person.” 

“Wow. Okay. Crazy shit. But you didn’t. That’s – that’s actually amazing. You overcame brainwashing by an evil angel who trained you to kill me. That’s like something out of a Harrison Ford movie. Fuckin’ A. Nice work, Cas.”

“I could not kill the real you. There is nothing in this world or beyond it that could force me to do so. I would sooner die by my own sword.”

“Okay, well, that’s not necessary. So, yeah, all is forgiven, yada yada yada, we’re still friends, no worries, okay? Understood?”

“Yes, I understand. Though now I am confused again as to why you have been avoiding me, if not due to anger.”

Fuck. He almost thought he’d be able to get out of this car without actually talking about this. Well, he’d never been lucky before, guess it wasn’t gonna start now. 

It was funny, because while Cas had been confessing and he had been forgiving, he almost forgot about the elephant in the car. The sexy, curvy, elephant. Damn, his mind was weird. 

They were stuck in silence yet again and Dean knew that Cas would not break the silence until Dean said something. They were locked into another one of their stares, which he had somehow managed to avoid these past five days. Now that they were no longer speaking, Dean found himself again drinking in the sight of her. 

Well, fuck, he was just gonna have to say it. 

“Cas, the reason I’ve been avoiding you…” He wanted to put it gingerly. How was he even supposed to say this? “The reason I’ve been avoiding you…”

“Yes, Dean.” 

“Is because you’re a chick now.”

“I do not understand.” 

“Your body, your…your new vessel. It’s weird seeing you like this. It’s freaking me out, actually.”

“Why do you find my vessel freakish? I believed it to be a perfectly serviceable and acceptable looking vessel.” Dean thought he could hear a tinge of hurt in Cas’ voice. Fuckin’ women. 

This was not going to be any kind of easy. 

“It’s not freakish, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying I’m freaked – and that’s all on me here – I just find it – disorienting – seeing you like this. I’m used to you being a guy, is all.”

“Oh.”

Cas still looked perplexed, though at least she didn’t look offended. 

“But you are aware that as an angel, I have no gender. I have inhabited several forms. You have witnessed me take possession of Claire Novak. Did that also disturb you?” 

“Well, yeah, actually, that was kinda freaky too now that I think about it. But it was different. Claire was a little girl. You’re a woman now. And you’re…I like women.”

“Yes, I am aware of that, Dean.” 

“So, sometimes when I look at you, I have thoughts.”

“Naturally, when you view me, you internalize a visual representation of me. This is always true.”

Fuckin’ Cas. Now the cluelessness was fully annoying, because it meant that he’d actually have to spell it out. But he still couldn’t bring himself to say the words. How do you tell your angelic best friend that you kinda want to fuck their brains out? 

“I have different kinds of thoughts than I had when you were in the other body,” he continued dumbly. “I have thoughts…like….the Pizza man….had…about the babysitter.” 

Jesus. Could he sound like a bigger moron? He was seriously smoother when he was 16 years old and trying to get to 3rd base with Becky Hanson. Not that he was trying to round bases here. But he was beginning to wish that he had Cas’ power to suddenly vanish, because he would totally take advantage of that right now.

Maybe Cas would, and save them both the humiliation. Realization was beginning to dawn on her face. Finally! “Oh.” 

They waited a moment in silence, and then before he knew what was happening, he felt the back of his head slam lightly against the driver’s-side window. It took another second for him to register the fact that he had been pushed into position by Cas, who now had her lips on his, and – ohmyGod this was actually happening. 

What the fuck? Full panic mode. He was going to protest. He was going to push her off him. He was going to calmly tell her that this was not his intention and this was a terrible idea. Any minute now, he was going to do all of this, because it really and truly was a terrible idea. 

But not right now. Because now his lips were parting and so were hers and he felt her tongue against his own, and her hands slide down his sides and for the second time in less than a week, his world stood completely still. 

Everything faded to black, except for her and the feeling of her on his lips, on his tongue, her hands on his body. The only things that existed were the parts of his body that she was touching. He wanted more, needed more, and without a thought reached under the trench coat and brought his hands around her firm, round ass, scooping her into position on his lap. Her skirt rode up further as she straddled him, and yes, this was better. His hands were on her and her hands were on him, and her legs were on his, and now, with just a slight shift, he could finally feel her on every part of him. He tilted his hips up so that the rock hard cock now straining through his jeans made contact. He ground her down onto him and felt her gasp in his mouth. 

Sparks flew. Literally. 

Outside the car, sparks showered down from the parking lot lights. It was only because some small part of his brain registered this that he suddenly became aware of the world around them. The sparks reminded him of the first time they met in that abandoned warehouse. Cas sure knew how to make an entrance. 

Cas. This was Cas. What were they doing? He stopped kissing her, and gently attempted to pull her away from him. But she would have none of that. She switched focus, sliding her tongue along the ridge of his ear, and grinding down harder on him, and he felt the world begin to melt away again. With herculean effort, he steeled himself and willed the world into sharper focus. 

“Cas. Cas. We need to stop.” 

He swore he could hear her whimper, and she pulled away from him, panting, yet as direct and precise as ever. “I do not wish to stop.” 

“Yeah. No. I do not wish to stop either. I mean, I don’t wanna stop.”

“Good,” she chirped, and leaned in again, as if this had somehow settled the matter.

“No, no, no, stop, really, you have to…”

“But you said you do not wish to stop.” 

“Yes, I know. And I don’t. But we have to.”

“Why?”

“Well…” Dean didn’t actually have an answer. She’s right. Why did they need to stop? Why on earth would they ever stop this? But he knew somewhere in his brain, the parts that weren’t currently registering the way her body still pressed against him and all the ways he wanted to keep feeling her, somewhere, there was a reason. He just couldn’t remember it. 

“Okay. I…have an answer. Uh, but I’m gonna have to put you back in your seat first.” 

That was definitely a whimper this time. He lifted her – God, that ass – and sat her back down on her side of the car. His body screamed protest at the separation, and it was as if hers did as well, as if he could feel threads connecting them beginning to tear and it all seemed like a terrible injustice. 

But now, he could breathe. And think. Sort of. Reasons. Why couldn’t they do this? 

“Because…you’re Cas. And I’m…” These were not good reasons. “Well, for one thing, I’m pretty sure when this woman invited an angel into her body, it wasn’t so that angel could use her body to fuck a guy in a Shop-n-Save parking lot.” There. That was a reason.

“You raise a valid point. Although compared to the violence that Jimmy Novak’s body was exposed to, this is hardly an inconvenience. I believe most women would be extremely pleased to be in this position. Also, she is not fully aware of what is taking place.” The tone was flat and even as ever, and the argument was logical, but Dean could still sense a pleading edge to it. Like she would say anything to get them back in contact. Now she was the 16 year old trying to round bases. 

“Yeah…sure…but, I know that Jimmy said he could tell that he was shot at and stabbed, and…I don’t want to have sex with someone’s body without their permission.”

Cas let out a sigh of resignation. “It is true. Though Jimmy was not typically conscious of what was happening while I inhabited his form, he was aware of violations of the bodily integrity of the vessel. I do suppose that, much as being penetrated with a bullet would bring body and mind into full accord, being penetrated with your – “ 

“Cas. Stop talking.” 

“Why? I was just going to say –“ 

“Seriously. Please. Stop. Talking.” 

And this was why it had to stop. Because it was true that he didn’t want to violate the unfortunately gorgeous woman who had agreed to be Cas’ vessel. But he also didn’t want to violate their friendship. And this was still completely, 100% Cas. Though the air still hung with heat, and the hard-on still raged in his pants, he was now brought fully back to reality, and the potential complications of this setup were just overwhelming. 

They sat in silence for a while. “May I please offer a suggestion, or would that be contrary to your request that I cease speaking?” 

“Sure, Cas, fire away. I’m open to suggestions here.” 

“I see your point about using this body to have sex without the consent of the owner. Though I still contend that any woman would be fortunate to have this opportunity with you.” 

Geez, who knew Cas was such a sweet talker. He didn’t think he could feel any warmer, but now he felt a blush creeping up, hot around his neck. 

“However, I am fairly certain that merely kissing would not constitute a major breach of consent. Prior to this evening, I would have surmised that a kiss would not even be of sufficient consequence to reach the consciousness of a vessel’s original owner. Now, though, I am not so confident in this assumption. I felt an extremely powerful reaction to kissing you.” 

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” 

“I do not recall having such a powerful reaction when kissing Meg, though I did find it pleasurable at the time. In retrospect, however, the difference between that kiss and this one seems comparable to the difference between a rainstorm and a hurricane.” 

“Ha. Gettin’ poetic now, are we? Yeah, I have that effect.” He couldn’t help being a little bit of a dick, if only to put off having to voice his own feelings about the kiss.

But Cas, as usual, was relentless. 

“Perhaps that is because she was a demon, and you are a human? Was that similar to your other experiences kissing humans? Or…angels?” she asked, and there was just a hint of jealousy at the last bit. 

Ahh, Anna. Yes, this kiss was worlds away from any kiss he’d ever had with any woman – not even Lisa could compare, and she had previously been his gold standard. If it weren’t for Anna, he might be able to chalk this up to some crazy magic that happens when an angel and a human make contact. But while his experience with Anna was something he would have previously described as intense, the entire concept of intensity had to be redefined in light of what had just happened. 

Cas looked at him – or rather, into him – those blue eyes boring holes into his soul like only the one who saved it could. He couldn’t lie.

“No…” he may as well just say it all, “I’ve never felt anything like that when kissing other women. Or angels.” 

“So you also found it to be a uniquely powerful experience?” 

“Yes.”

“And a positive one?”

“Oh hell yes.” Why even try to pretend it was anything else. 

“So, returning to my proposal, I suggest that we continue to kiss, even if we cannot consummate our union in this vessel.” 

Sonofabitch.

Dean had completely forgotten that this was leading up to a suggestion. And it was a great suggestion. I mean, who could argue with that. Best kiss of your life, no harm done to the body, so why on earth would he want to stop this? 

But there were reasons. For one, he wasn’t sure if he could keep kissing and touching Cas and maintain his gentlemanly stance on the no-sex rule. I mean, there’s only so much a man can take. And despite Cas’ agreement with the ethics of the decision, he had a feeling she would be willing to throw ethics out the window if he suggested they take it further.

Again, though, this was a convenient cover for the deeper issue. The more complicated issue that Dean couldn’t even fully explain to himself, but that he knew was a problem. They were friends. Cas was his best friend. His angel. His family. His…well, before this week, he would have said his brother. And no matter what Chuck’s slash fans wrote, this was not the kind of activity he would engage in with a brother. 

But Cas was different. Seeing Cas in this form, feeling her, kissing her, he had to admit that Cas had always been different. Not quite family, but something just as deep. And now that this barrier had been crossed, could they ever go back to being what they were? How would it work if they didn’t? Jimmy’s body was healing, and Cas intended to return to it. Would they stop kissing then? Or, issue of dubious consent out of the way, would they take it even further, swallow each other whole the way they so clearly wanted to now?  
He felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought of it. 

Dean wasn’t sure what scenario he found more alarming: the possibility that he would lead Cas on and then call it quits once the next body switch happened, potentially breaking Cas’ heart and maybe even destroying their friendship; or the possibility that he would want to continue this even when Cas was back to living inside a suit-wearing stubble-sporting accountant. 

This was really getting to be too much. His brain was hurting.

Cas sat waiting for him in silence, as usual.

“Look, Cas, that was amazing. I mean, really. Fuckin’ outstanding. But I’m not sure if we should keep doing that. I just don’t know if it’s a good idea. And I can’t really explain why, but I – I just need some time to clear my head and figure out what’s what. I – you’re very important to me. I don’t want this to get in the way.” 

Cas looked like she was going to object to this, but she must have caught sight of the look in his eyes, because she stopped before saying a word. He took the opportunity to emphasize his need. “Please,” he said, “let’s just put this on hold. Let’s see what’s going on with Sam, and focus on healing Jimmy’s body, and let’s just put this aside for now. We can come back to it later.” He said this even though he wasn’t sure he would ever really have a satisfying answer for any of this. 

Again, Cas looked like she wanted to argue and explain, and do anything to keep driving home the unarguable fact that the physical distance between them was a fucking travesty. But instead, her expression softened, and she just said, “Of course, Dean. Thank you for forgiving me." 

"No problem." 

"And Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?" 

"I hope that you do not continue to avoid me once we have returned to the hospital.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Do you promise?”

And the way she said it, he almost wanted to make fun of her for being such a girl, but I guess…well, she was, so that wasn’t really an insult. So instead he answered her, soft and genuine. 

“Yes, I promise.”


	2. On Your Feet or On Your Knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second time they kiss, it's sweet and gentle, almost chaste. The third time is something else entirely.
> 
> Cas is temporarily in a female vessel, forcing Dean to confront truths he's spent a long time denying. Angst and fluff and smut ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just changed this from a series to a chapter, because that fit more. Takes place in late Season 8. I'm still very new to this, so feedback is very appreciated!

It was easier than Dean expected to go back to something like normal with Cas and Sam. He thought it would be even more uncomfortable after the Impala incident, but it was kind of freeing, actually. Even if he had no idea what would come of it.

In the meantime, it was good to be able to actually join conversations between Sam and Cas instead of finding excuses to avoid the room whenever she was there. He walked in on them one day to hear Cas bemoaning the way the nurses looked at her.

“They regard me with suspicion. I am not certain why, but I believe that they think I am strange.”

“You are strange,” Dean interjected. “For one thing, you’ve been wearing the same outfit for 2 weeks straight. That, and coma guy’s trench coat. They probably think you’re a homeless stalker.” A hot homeless stalker, he wanted to say, but instead he said “A classy homeless stalker. So no offense or anything.”

Cas was not amused. She furrowed her brows. “So you are proposing that I obtain alternative clothing. What do you suggest I wear?” She looked at him and he was startled by the presumption that he would have a say in the matter.

“Hey, I have a great idea,” Sam said, because he was a devilish little shit. “You should take her shopping. You can have a whole Pretty Woman moment.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Just the fact that you name-dropped Pretty Woman right now shows that it really should be you going dress shopping, Samantha.”

Naturally, Cas didn’t follow this conversation at all. “What is a pretty woman moment? And why are you referring to Sam as Samantha?”

“Forget it, Cas. If the nurses don’t like your outfits, screw ‘em. Let ‘em think whatever they want. Maybe drop the coat though. At least while we’re inside.”

Cas agreed and removed the trench coat, folding it neatly on the chair where she originally found it. Dean tried to hide the sharp intake of breath that came when he saw her bend over slightly to place the coat down, then again when she turned around. The first time she put on the coat, Dean had been thrown off. But over time, it became sort of comforting.

It wasn’t until she took it off again that he realized how much the trademark coat was helping him treat her like the old Cas. It didn’t hurt that the straight lines and baggy fit of it allowed him to temporarily forget about the shapely body underneath.

Now it was like seeing her again for the first time, drinking in the sight of the royal blue blouse with the first two buttons undone. Just enough to still be professional, but one little button away from scandalous. He looked down at her svelte legs, now fully visible beneath the hem of the black pencil skirt. Not just the image, but the feel of hiking up that skirt in the car as he brought her to his lap in the front seat, came rushing toward him.

Leave it to him. Just when he thought he’d gotten it under control, he had to go and ruin it all by telling Cas to wear less clothing.  
Luckily, Cas was out of the hospital more often now. She was devoting more time to trying to track down the angel tablet, stopping in every day or two to check in with them and continue the slow healing process with Jimmy’s body.

Cas’s previous vessel was in much better shape now, though still not quite healed. Dean found his gaze lingering over the body from time to time. It was odd, but he kind of missed the old Cas, even though he knew she was right there with them in a different form. Still, he’d gotten to know Cas in Jimmy Novak’s body, had gotten used to that gravely voice and the particular expressions that Cas made with that face. He tried to imagine what it would be like to have Cas there in both male and female form, and it just added to his confusion.

While Jimmy’s body healed, Sam’s status remained the same. They hadn’t really expected much out of this, but the doctors wouldn’t give up trying to make a diagnosis. They’d run all kinds of tests, and Dean felt a little bad that they were going to all this effort for nothing.

Yet there was a part of him that held out hope that modern medicine could figure something out that Cas couldn’t. He knew it was a long shot, but angels didn’t really know everything, did they? When they suggested an experimental treatment for a disease they hadn’t even officially diagnosed him with yet, he convinced Sam to just go for it. After all, what did they have to lose?

As it turned out, plenty.

Sam had a violent reaction to the treatment and was carted away hurriedly by a team of doctors and nurses, some of whom Dean had never even seen in the two weeks they’d been there. Shit had gotten bad.

The reaction was totally unexpected by the doctors, but Dean should have seen it coming. He knew that there was no way Sammy really had what the doctors thought he had. And he should’ve realized that messing with Sam’s already fucked up system could lead to disaster.

He should have known. He pushed Sammy into getting the treatment just like he pushed him into everything else. Twice Sammy had tried to get away, first to Stanford, and then with Amelia. He just wanted to have a life, and Dean had made him feel like shit for it. He’d bullied him into becoming a hunter again and again, and made him feel guilty for not wanting it. Sam only started the trials because he knew Dean would have done it, and he said himself he wanted to save them both. Now Sammy was going to die, and Dean had no one to blame but himself.

He stared at Sam’s empty bed for hours, while the doctors did who knows what. He occasionally got status updates from a nurse, but all he knew was that they were trying to keep him stable. Just keep him from crashing.

Dean wandered over to the bed holding Jimmy Novak’s body. He looked toward his eyes, but they were closed, so he mindlessly traced his fingers along the cheek. “Cas.”

Dean didn’t have to lift his eyes to know that Cas was there, standing right behind him. She had heard his call, just that one word, and had come to him. He turned around, and there they were, the brilliant blue eyes he’d been searching for. “The doctors…Sam…“ he started to explain, but just trailed off. There were no words. He didn’t need words anyway, not with Cas. They’d always been able to communicate without making a sound.

She just stood there, looking at him. Looking into him. Her eyes said all the things that would have sounded trite if someone had said them out loud. “It’s going to be okay,” and “It’s not your fault.” Dean felt a tear trail down his cheek, but he also felt a warmth enveloping him, cradling him, singing silent lullabies until, for a moment, he could almost believe that the world wasn’t crumbling down around him.

Then Cas stepped forward, and they were just inches away from each other. She brought her right hand to his face, cupping it gently and using her thumb to wipe away the tear. She moved closer and looked up at him. He gave a small, slow nod, in answer to her unspoken question. Yes, this is okay. Yes, please.  _Please_.

She lifted her lips gently to his, as much a caress as a kiss. This time, instead of fading to black, the world suddenly seemed to light up in iridescent white. The feeling of warmth that had been cradling him became all-encompassing. There were no sparks flying, but a gentle hum seemed to surround them.

He wouldn’t be surprised if they were actually glowing. Sometimes there were flashes of light when Cas healed his broken bones or torn flesh, and Dean knew that this was something similar. Healing.

After a few blissful moments, they opened their eyes and each took a small step back. Cas’s hand dropped down from his face, but Dean caught it with his own before she could remove it entirely. He brought her fingertips to his mouth and lightly brushed them against his lips.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and then leaned in toward Cas so that their foreheads were touching. They stood for a moment like that before their lips found each other again.

Their kisses were still gentle, almost chaste, but became a little more insistent, shaded by an undercurrent of need. He sucked at her bottom lip and brought his arm up to encircle her waist. He felt her tongue slide into his mouth and he opened his further to let it in, licking at her tongue with his own. He felt his body heat up, but at the same time it felt like he was being filled up with light.

He pulled back and opened his eyes, swaying slightly as he looked into hers.

“Castiel.” He left the tip of his tongue hanging on his teeth, savoring the feel of her full name in his mouth. “How do you do that?”  
“What am I doing, Dean?,” she asked. Her complete lack of guile made him want to hold her tighter.

He brought her close to him, eyes still locked deeply into hers. “I think you know. It’s powerful, what we have. It’s not like this when other people kiss.”

“Well, you and I do share –“

“ – a profound bond.” He laughed. “You said it, sister.” He held her against him and kissed her on the side of the head. The rest of that scene played out in his head, and his face fell as he remembered the original audience for that comment.

“Sam – Sammy, he’s not doing well. The doctor’s gave him something, and – I don’t know – they’re working on him now.”

“Yes, of course. I will retrieve him.” Dean barely had time to register her words before she was gone. A few minutes later, she reappeared with Sam. He didn’t look great, but thankfully, it looked like he was okay.

“I can’t reverse the damage that came from Sam’s participation in the trials. However, I was able to successfully counter the negative effects of the doctors’ vain attempt to cure him. We should probably leave now, however. They all seemed very startled at my appearance.”

Dean couldn’t help but chortle at that. “You think? I wonder what could have been startling about having the homeless stalker magically appear and then vanish with the patient.”

Cas gave him a look.

“I’m sorry, the classy homeless stalker.”

Dean couldn’t help himself. He was so happy. In the last few hours, he’d felt as low as he’d ever felt in his life. Now he had his angel, he had his brother, and to top it all off, they were getting the hell out of this hospital.

Cas kept her hold on Sam with one hand and reached toward Dean with the other. A second later, they were standing in front of the Impala.

Sam’s cheeks grew red as he took note of the busy street around him. “Hey, a bit of warning would have been nice. I’m still in my hospital gown here.”

Dean snickered. It was pretty hilarious. Cas just looked sheepish and apologized. A moment later, Sam was fully dressed.

“Hey, Cas, that’s a pretty neat trick. But you really should have left Sammy in his gown. He was giving the pedestrians a good show," Dean couldn’t resist the urge to tease as he got into the driver’s side of the Impala. Sam rolled his eyes and got into the passenger’s side, and all was right with the world again.

Cas didn’t reply. Instead, she climbed into the back seat and barked “Head northwest.” It was unusual for Cas to give directions, but Dean hadn’t really thought about where he was driving, so he just went along with it.

Before he had a chance to ask about it, Sam turned around to face the back. “What about Jimmy’s body? Are you just gonna leave it there at the hospital?”

“I plan to return and retrieve it at a later date. For now, I believe it is best that it remain in the hospital. We have work to attend to, and our job would not be aided by the presence of a lifeless carcass.”

“Ha, Cas, you know you’ve got a way with words.” Still, they couldn’t really argue with that logic. But what exactly did she mean about them having work to attend to?

“Work? You find something out about the angel tablets?” Sammy voiced Dean’s thoughts before he’d even fully formed them. He was kind of amazed that Sam was so alert considering what he’d just been through. Actually, now that he was back in the car and wearing real clothes again, Dean couldn’t help but think Sam looked better than he had in weeks. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but there was color in his face, and he looked downright lively.

Cas’s reply woke him out of his reverie. “There has been no additional news about the angel tablets. However, I have heard through various sources that other tablets exist. Crowley is attempting to collect all of them.”

“Is Kevin – “ Dean felt a flash of worry, and then shame. He had been so concerned with Sam that he’d only checked in with Kevin a few times since they’d ended up at the hospital.

“He’s safe, in the bunker. I was just with him, in fact.” Dean breathed a sigh of relief. They were all lucky to have an angel looking out for them. “However, it does seem likely that once Crowley has obtained all of the tablets, he will renew his efforts to capture Kevin. Either that or kill him in order to activate a new prophet.”

“Okay, all the more reason to keep that bastard from getting the box set. What’s on the other tablets, anyway?”

“It seems that there are tablets devoted to different beings, mystical and otherwise. There are rumors of a tablet devoted to humans. That is the one Crowley is most interested in, but also the one that has proved most elusive. No one is certain that it exists. Currently, Crowley is pursuing a tablet for vampires, whose existence has been confirmed and whose location is known.

“Vampire tablet, huh? That could be handy. If Crowley knows where it is, why hasn’t he nicked it yet?”

“It is in the hands of a formidable opponent.”

Formidable? Dean thought of the only vampire who could give the King of Hell pause. This time, he and Sam were in perfect unison as they said “The alpha.”

“Correct. The alpha has possession of the tablet. He has had it for several centuries. Though he is not able to decipher its meaning, he is aware that it has the potential to be used as a weapon against all vampires, including him. Therefore, he has safeguarded it, keeping it locked and watched by several vampires at all times in one of his homes. Now that he knows Crowley is interested in it – “

“He’s probably joined the vampire bodyguard squad.” Great. “Well, I’ve been meaning to kill that Anne Rice reject for a while. Seems like now’s as good a time as any.”

“It will not be a trivial task, Dean. But it is a matter of some urgency. If Crowley obtains the tablet, he is a step closer to completion. If he has power over the vampires, that makes him an even more dangerous enemy.”

“Okay, so where to?”

“Actually, we are almost there.” Ah, so that’s where they were headed. She wasn’t kidding about urgency. “It is only another 70 miles from here.”

“But Sam – “

“I can bring Sam back to the bunker.”

“No way, I’m coming with. I feel great, believe it or not. And you’ll need all the help you can get if you’re going up against the alpha.”

Sam had a point about the alpha. And he was looking better, somehow. Still, there was no way Dean was going to let him jump into danger when he’d just gotten out of the hospital. After a short power struggle, they reached a compromise. They’d check into a motel not too far from the alpha hideout, and Sam would stay while Dean and Cas scouted the place. If he still felt well enough to fight when they got back, he could join them when they returned to get the tablet.

Of course, Dean had no intention of scouting the location and returning later. Sam probably knew that, but for once, he didn’t put up too much of a fight. He must’ve been pretty wiped out, as he fell on one of the double beds as soon as they got into the room. Seeing that he was okay and hopefully out for the night, Dean and Cas got back in the Impala and headed toward the vamp hideaway. The sun had begun to set as they checked into the motel, and by the time they got to the spot, it was completely dark.

It wasn’t anything special, this place. Not that Dean was expecting a Gothic castle, but it looked just like any other country house. It was pretty remote, though, and nearly obscured by tall trees. That was probably a selling point for the vamps. As they drove up, Dean heard the grunts and crashes that usually signaled a fight. A big one too. They were still a ways off when they noticed a stream of people walking into the front of the house.

“Demons. Crowley must have sent them to retrieve the tablet.”

“Well, looks like we’re walking into a perfect shit storm.” Ah well, wouldn’t be the first time.

They got out of the car and made their way slowly toward the house. Through a large side window, they were able to make out what was going on. The alpha was knocking demons down left and right, with the help of a couple of other vamps. The demons just kept coming, though, one after the other.

“Well, with any luck, they’ll all kill each other off, and we won’t even have to –“ Dean was interrupted by a deafening noise that seemed to come from underneath them.

“The tablet. This must be a diversion so that others could go obtain it without interference from the alpha.”

“Gotta hand it to Crowley, that’s a pretty genius move.” It seemed to be working, too. The alpha looked around frantically, and his eyes settled toward the back of the house, before a demon took advantage of his split attention and threw him against a wall.

Without a word, Dean and Cas ran toward the back of the house, where they found the entrance to a cellar. It was either really perfect timing, or really awful timing, because as soon as they got down there, they were greeted with the sight of a half-blown up stone coffin, surrounded by an assortment of vampire limbs, and what looked to be about 6 or 7 demons. One was reaching into the coffin, while the others realized they had new company and set their sights on the unwelcome intruders.

“Get the tablet. I will take care of the demons,” Cas said. She wasn’t kidding. Not that he was a chauvinist, but Dean hadn’t really prepared himself to see this Cas in full badass battle mode. As he rushed toward the coffin, he caught a glimpse of her effortlessly tossing a demon across the room, and damn if that wasn’t a sight to see.

The demon by the coffin had pulled out the tablet and was just beginning to take note of what was happening around him when Dean lunged at him, stabbing him with Ruby’s knife, and grabbing the tablet with his other hand in one swift motion.

Crowley had done them a favor. This was almost easy. At least, Dean thought so before he felt himself being pushed up against the cellar wall. He turned around and saw the torn off remainder of a huge bicep before catching sight of the hulking and very pissed off vampire it was attached to. He pinned Dean against the wall with his one good arm, and spat in his face. “I believe that belongs to us.”

As the brute leaned in to bite a chunk out of his neck, all Dean could think about was how absurd it would be if after all he’d been through, he was defeated by a one-armed vamp, of all things. A huge one-armed vamp, but still…

Before he had a chance to devise an attack plan, he saw the vamp’s face disintegrate before his eyes. In its place was a slender hand with a French manicure.

That lovely little hand had just crushed a vampire’s skull.

As the vampire’s body dropped, Dean was able to see the whole scene in front of him. Not a single demon was standing, all of them were crumpled on the floor. And in the middle of it all was Cas, in her trench coat and skirt, blue eyes blazing.

It was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

“Damn, Cas. You are…unbelievable.”

She may have sensed the lust in his voice, but even if she didn’t, there was no mistaking the fact that he was openly leering at her now. Her mouth curled into a small smile, but their moment was interrupted by the sounds of fighting upstairs.

“I’m gonna say that’s our cue to leave,” Dean said, and they ran up the stairs and out toward the parked car. “So long, bitches. Have fun.” Dean almost wished he could stick around, maybe put his feet up and watch as the vamps and demons iced each other. But they had bigger fish to fry.

Dean handed Cas the tablet and got into the driver’s side. She headed toward the passenger side, but as she was pulling the door shut, they saw three demons rushing toward them. It was wishful thinking to believe that they could get out of here undetected. They pulled away quickly, but the demons looked like they weren’t gonna give up too easily. “You gotta get outta here with that thing.”

“Yes, I shall bring it to the bunker. It belongs with the prophet, and will be safest there,” Cas said. But she paused and looked at him, and Dean knew what she was thinking.

“I’ll be fine, just get the hell outta here and give that to Kevin.”

She disappeared, and Dean slammed the gas pedal, going as fast as his baby could take him.

By the time he got back to the motel, he was sure the demons weren’t after him. He exhaled audibly, but could still feel his heart racing. Now that he was out of danger, it was racing for a different reason. He sat in the front seat of the car and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. All he could see behind his closed eyelids was the image of Cas standing there in the cellar, looking so delicate and so powerful at the same time.

He heard the flutter of wings and knew what he would see when he opened his eyes again. There she was, sans tablet, standing in front of the car. Dean felt like he had been dosed or possessed or something. Because this certainly wasn’t him, getting out of the Impala, slamming the door shut, and walking towards her. It was something inside of him, something that he couldn’t control even if he wanted to, making it impossible for him to do anything else but what he was about to do.

Several things happened at once. Awareness of the flood of sensations and movements came to Dean in bits and pieces. Here was his hand, grabbing her by the waist, shoving her down onto the hood of the car. Here were her lips on his, soft and full. Here was his tongue plunging into her mouth hungrily. There was her tongue, first in his mouth and then sliding down the side of his neck.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back, then brought his mouth down to her neck and bit into it like he was a vamp and she was his meal. His teeth still set against her collarbone, he ran his tongue in circles around her skin, wanting to take her all in. She gasped and let out a moan, and the exquisite sound of it drove him over the edge.

All thought left his mind as he pulled at her clothing, one hand running underneath her blouse to pop open her bra, while the other made it’s way up her skirt. He cursed the fabric of the stockings that kept him from being able to fully feel the bare skin of her thigh. “Take these off,” he growled, and just like that they were gone, no barrier now between his hands and her smooth flesh.

His mouth met hers again and he could taste her moans, vibrations against his lips as she reacted to his touch. He undid that one last button that he’d spent so much time thinking about, the button on her blouse that kept her right on the cusp of propriety. He tore it open and the one beneath it and let his mouth run down to the space between her breasts. He pushed the loosened bra down on one side and suckled at her breast, flicking his tongue against her hardened nipple as she let out more delicious noises.

Somewhere in the motel parking lot, the one remaining functional light blew out, and they were plunged into near-total darkness.

He pulled away for a moment just to drink in the sight of her by the glint of moonlight. Her full lips were parted and glistening, her breath ragged, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated into large black discs rimmed in sapphire blue. The effects of her lust were compounded by the signs of his manhandling, leaving her hair mussed, legs splayed on the hood of the Impala, skirt riding up, blouse wide open to reveal a half-removed bra, slippery streaks from his tongue and bite marks still visible.

His perfect angel was thoroughly wrecked.

Dean was momentarily paralyzed, intoxicated with the sight before him. Cas took the opportunity to turn the tables on him, pushing his shirt up and tracing her tongue along the grooves in his muscular abdomen. She held the shirt tight at his back with one hand so he could still see her eyes as she looked up at him. With the other hand, she ran her fingers along the juncture between his hip and thigh, touching a sensitive spot he didn’t even realize he had.

She was still looking up at him when she forced her long and pointed tongue out to push the top button of his jeans through its opening. Then she shifted her attention downward as she completed the maneuver with her teeth.

Though he wanted nothing more than to watch her keep working her way down his body, he was so taken aback by the unexpected porn star move of her undressing him with his mouth that he couldn’t help but blurt out, “Where’d you learn that, Cas?” Then he smirked as he remembered. “Lemme guess…the pizza man?”

She looked at him with utter seriousness. “No.” Her mouth curved into a wicked grin. “I learned it from the babysitter.”

It was all too much. He laughed and she squealed as he picked her up, flipping her over onto the car, and then leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You know, the babysitter was a very bad girl.” He stood upright and took in the sight of her on all fours, knowing she was strong enough to toss him aside at any moment, but wanted to be there at his mercy. “And so are you,” he said, and then brought his hand back and gave her a hard slap on the ass.

She yelped playfully, then went back to the business of driving him completely insane. She backed into his groin and wriggled that perfect round ass against him until he could no longer take it. Self-control ceased yet again and he tore at her like an animal, pushing her skirt up with one hand and smoothing it over the black satiny fabric of her panties. With his other hand, he finished the job she’d started, pulling down his zipper and reaching in to pull out his thick, hard cock.

He slid his cock in between her legs and rubbed up against her, enjoying the feel of the satin against his skin and getting impossibly harder as he realized how wet she was, soaking through the fabric. He let out a groan as he rutted against her, and she responded by moaning, low and barely intelligible, “Deeeeaaaaaaaaaaaan.”

He held himself against her with his right hand and leaned over, sliding his left hand up to grip hers and then touching his lips to her ear. “Yeah, you want this? Tell me how much you want it,” he commanded, and she began keening, calling his name, “Dean, pleeaaase, pleeaaase, Deeaaaan.” He breathed heavily and closed his eyes as she writhed and begged, the grip on his cock and on her hand getting tighter as he felt his insides twist.

Somewhere, a small part of his brain registered the sensation of pain against his left hand. His eyes flew open, though he didn’t have to look to see what it was. Diamond.

This was wrong. This was…a person. A married woman. And she was still there, and he was about to…He had to stop. He summoned every ounce of willpower he had and took a step back, releasing her hand. He closed his eyes once more and fought himself to say determinedly “We can’t do this. You should go.”

He should get a fucking award for this.

He waited, half-hoping that she would try to talk him out of it, offer some small shred of moral justification for why it wouldn’t be the worst thing for them to continue. He probably wouldn’t have put up much of a fight, if she’d only given the flimsiest of excuses. Instead, he heard her wings flutter, and when he opened his eyes she was gone.

Good. Well, good in the ethical sense, but lousy by every other definition of the word. His was still gripping his cock, which now ached for release, and his head spun with want. He tucked himself in, wincing, and zipped up his pants, not bothering to fasten the now spit-slickened top button as he raced to the motel room.

Under any other circumstances, he probably would have taken a moment before entering the room, maybe tried to disguise the raging erection tenting his pants. But the truth was, he didn’t even think about Sam’s existence until he opened the door and saw him sitting on one of the double beds. He still couldn’t be bothered to give two shits about what Sam might’ve heard or what he must’ve thought. Sam opened his mouth as if to say something, and Dean cut him off with one word, “Shower.” He didn’t bother to wait for a response, just booked it to the bathroom and hurriedly peeled off his clothes.

The water was lukewarm as he got in. He was far past the point where a cold shower could do any good, so he turned the knob of the shower all the way so he would be blasted with hot water. A sigh escaped his lips as he wrapped his hand around his throbbing dick. He pulled slowly at first, languidly, just enjoying the relief. He rubbed his thumb against the head of his cock to spread the precome that was leaking from his slit, then glanced around for a moment before his eyes settled on a bottle of Sammy’s girly conditioner. Perfect. He poured a dollop on his hand and ran it along his length.

He didn’t have to put any effort into calling forth the images and sounds that were now seared into his brain. Cas spread out on the car in front of him, shirt buttons undone, skirt riding high. Cas on all fours, waiting for him to spank her. Cas backing up into him, moaning his name, pleading with him to take her.

The sensation of hot water against his naked body came into play and he incorporated it into a more satisfying conclusion to the scene they’d begun. He stroked himself more forcefully as he imagined her on her knees in front of him in the shower, tongue running against the underside of his cock and then full lips wrapped around him, choking slightly as she took him all in. He imagined it was her hand and not his, playing with his balls as she swirled her tongue around the head. Her eyes opening to look up at him lustily, those familiar blues piercing him while she sucked and licked.

Suddenly, the image in his mind flickered, and the blue eyes staring up at him belonged to the man he’d first known as Cas.

His knees buckled slightly and he brought the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his cock to the side of the shower wall to brace himself. Steam rose around him and he felt slightly dizzy but kept moving his hand, harder and faster, imagining it was Cas’s mouth wrapped tightly around him. The two images of Cas alternated in his mind, blue eyes steady as the imagined mouth gulping him down switched from the moist full lips of the female Cas to the lush cupid’s bow of the male Cas. It was the image of the latter that finally brought him to his peak.

He let out an involuntary groan as he came in thick spurts against the shower wall. His head swam and he might’ve fallen to his knees were it not for the arm still propping him up. He leaned fully against the tile wall, one hand still slowly stroking his cock as he squeezed out the last bits of come.

Well, that was new.


	3. End of the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean deals with the aftermath of his surprising shower fantasy, and some unexpected news from Cas.

Dean washed himself off and threw a towel around his waist. His mind was still a blur, and he felt the edges of something like panic creeping up despite the blissful relaxation of release. For the first time, the fact that Sam was in the hotel room truly registered, and he wondered if staying in the bathroom permanently was an option. He took his time brushing his teeth, hoping his brother would fall back asleep.

No such luck. Sam was wide awake and gave him a knowing look as he stepped out of the bathroom. Dean would not have been surprised if his entire body was flushed red with embarrassment.

“Good shower?”

Fuckin’ Sam. “Yeah. Well, lotsa demons. And vamps. Messy. But we got the tablet,” he stuttered lamely. “Sorry we didn’t wait for you, but you know, demon invasion, we couldn’t really wait.”

“Yeah, I get it. Glad you guys got the tablet. Where is it?”

“Cas brought it back to the bunker.”

“Right. So is that where Cas is now?”

Fuckin’ Sam probably knew very well that Cas had just been here, but Dean went along with the lie anyway. “Yeah, uh, probably. Listen, it’s been a long day, I’m gonna head to bed. Gotta get my 4 hours, you know.”

“Sure. Pleasant dreams, Dean.”

Yeah, he knew.

Dean was exhausted, and when Sam turned off the lights, he expected to pass out. Instead he spent the next couple of hours staring at the ceiling.

His mind was racing, not only with thoughts of Cas and what had just happened in the parking lot and then in the shower, but also with a flood of memories. Most of them were ones that he’d kept buried for years.

That image, that fantasy, and his reaction to it…well, it wasn’t entirely new. It had been years since he’d let himself, but there was a time when he was practically addicted to the thought of having a man’s mouth wrapped around his cock.

In his early teens, when he was always a gentle breeze away from a new erection, he hadn’t been able to control his reactions, or the influx of images that came to him when he was jacking off. Which was pretty much his favorite pastime, whenever he could get a few minutes alone. He almost always started off thinking about girls, but then an unbidden image of some male movie star or cute boy from his class would enter into his mind at the most inopportune moment. For a little while, it was one cute boy in particular. By the time the images arose, he’d be so far gone that he wouldn’t even try to stop. If anything, the forbidden aspect made it even hotter. He would come furiously, panting and sweating, biting his lip to keep himself from crying out.

Of course, after he finished, knots would start forming in his stomach, sometimes not leaving for days. He didn’t understand it. He knew he wasn’t gay. God knew he got enough accidental hard-ons when he spotted a girl with a too-tight sweater on at school. It didn’t make any sense.

Besides, he couldn’t be gay. He was a Winchester, a hunter. He killed monsters and protected the innocent. What would people think? What would his father think?

Dad never discriminated when it came to saving people, but that didn’t mean he’d be okay with having a son who took it in the ass. He’d probably be disgusted with him. He wouldn't trust him to protect Sam. Hell, maybe he wouldn’t even let him near Sammy, afraid that his perversion would rub off on him, or worse. He thought of all the people on TV who called fags sinners and pedophiles, said they shouldn’t even be near children. Was he going to turn into a pedophile? Would he hurt Sammy? The thought was unbearable, as was the burning shame and terror of being rejected by the only people in the world he truly cared about. He needed to stop.

And so he did. It wasn’t easy, and it never really went away 100%, but over time he developed greater control over his fantasy life.

At first he tried to give up masturbation entirely, but that was a joke. Ultimately, he got hooked on porn, only letting himself look at magazines and then websites that focused on girls and didn’t include too many cock shots. He became mildly obsessed with hentai (tentacle shots don’t count) and with  _Busty Asian Beauties_ , but figured that was a small price to pay to be normal. He had a strong libido and a legitimate attraction to women, so mostly it was just a matter of practice. His body learned to discriminate, associating sexual feelings and orgasm with softness and curves.

Hooking up with girls helped, and he took to that with gusto. No fantasy could compete with the feeling of actual flesh on flesh contact. After time he was able to supplement the porn with memories of his many conquests, so that even his alone time was relatively safe. He occasionally had dreams featuring men, but hey, people dream about all kinds of crazy shit, right? Didn’t mean anything.

And then along came Cas. Fucking it all up.

From the first day he walked into Dean’s life, talking about “gripping him tight” and staring at him with those big blue eyes like he knew every thought Dean never owned up to having, Cas had always been different. There was something undeniably powerful between them. He wouldn’t have called it sexual, at least not at first, but there was something dangerous and electric about their connection from the start. The way Cas lowered his already deep voice even further as he stood inches away, and told him “you should show me some respect,” made Dean tremble in ways he didn’t fully understand. Or didn’t let himself understand.

Cas had rebelled against heaven for him, had saved him and healed him and betrayed him and died for him, again and again. What they had was stronger than anything Dean had ever had with anyone outside his family, was even stronger than his relationship with Sam in some ways. There were layers to it that he couldn’t describe.

Still, he had never consciously allowed himself to think about the physical attraction that pulled them toward each other. Until now.

It was almost funny, the fact that he had to take over the body of a hot chick before Dean could admit to himself that he’d probably always wanted to fuck Cas into oblivion. And apparently, Cas felt the same way. Dean let his mind drift over various memories, for the first time acknowledging details that he’d long been repressing.

There was the day that Cas truly broke ranks, taking a knife to his arm and painting a sigil in his own blood to send Zachariah away. It was the day that their bond was solidified, when Cas gave up everything for him, for the first but not the last time. Before he realized what was happening, when Cas had just spun him around and pressed him against the wall, holding a hand over his mouth and staring at him silently...whew. Dean was just a mess of confusion. And beyond confusion there was fear, and awe, and yes, absolute arousal. He didn't know what Cas's plan was, whether he was going to stab him or fuck him or what. He seriously had no clue. But he nodded his head, trusting him completely. And honestly, he probably would have let him do anything at that point. 

Then there was the day that they were fleeing the hellhounds, when Cas had unexpectedly pushed Meg against the wall – guess that was kinda his move – and Dean could do nothing but stare, mouth agape. It was an odd mixture of emotions he felt. There was surprise most of all, but also a tinge of jealousy, and somewhere in the middle of it was curiosity. How did Cas know how to kiss like that? What else does he know? What would it feel like to be in Meg’s place?

He couldn’t take his eyes off them. So much of what made Cas…well, Cas, was on display in that moment. As far as Dean knew, that was Cas’s first kiss, and yet he was so in command. He was such a paradox. The virgin who’d lived for thousands of years, who’d stood up to archangels and ruled armies, but got nervous if a girl talked to him in a brothel. The combination of innocence and dominance was mesmerizing. He never knew what Cas would do or say next, and that made him all the more compelling.   

And of course, there was the day that Cas greeted him in the bathroom after leaving Purgatory, bearded and dirty. Dean had been so glad to see him, but unsettled and suspicious at the same time. Yet the moment Cas stepped out of the bathroom, cleaned up and looking at him for approval, all of Dean’s contradictory feelings were replaced with just one: lust. He’d looked uncomfortably at Sam, hoping that no one noticed as he squirmed in his seat and attempted to conceal the growing bulge in his pants. Yeah, that one had been pretty hard to explain away, even to himself.

It was magnetic. Dean’s body felt drawn to Cas, and in that moment his hard earned self-control began to chip away.

There was more to it, though, more to them, than just this potent physical pull. After everything that had happened, everything that Cas had done, right and so horribly wrong, the feelings he had for Cas just continued to grow. When he was in Purgatory, before he met Benny and even once he learned that there was an escape hatch, there was only one thought fueling his steadfast stomp through that stark and desolate landscape: Find the angel.

Getting out, getting back to Sam, avoiding the leviathan and the thousands of other creatures that threatened to smoke him out at every turn, all of that was secondary.

It was part of what made Purgatory feel so pure. Freed from his family bonds and the burdens of the world, he knew exactly what he needed. He needed to see Cas again. To know that he was alright. More than that, to know that they would be together again. And when he did finally find Cas, what he felt was pure - pure joy.

Was he in love with Cas? Had he been for years? It all seemed so impossible, and yet so simply and unavoidably true. But it shook him to his very core.

Dean had been with so many women. Not only been with them, but really enjoyed it, too. He even sincerely cared for a couple of them. His feelings for Cassie and Lisa weren’t fake. Though it was true that he never gave himself fully to Cassie. And by the time he was back with Lisa, he was so heartbroken by Sam’s leap into the hole that he was never able to feel truly content with her. But Lisa had long been the starring character in his dream of a normal life. Though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, it was still his dream to somehow one day have a wife and kid. He’d loved playing Dad to Ben, it was like an extension of his role as a big brother, and it made so much sense. Being in love with an angel, with an angel in the body of a dude no less, that just didn’t make any kind of sense.

Finally exhausted, and really no closer to understanding what the hell was going on in his own brain, Dean fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. The next morning, he and Sam started driving back toward the bunker, and he blasted his music to keep his brother from starting any deep conversations. He hoped the music would drown out his own thoughts too, but his mind continued to churn.

Days passed, and his angel was nowhere to be found. Dean thought about praying to Cas, but he wasn’t sure what he would say if they were face to face. He wasn’t sure if he could even look at Cas again, though he yearned to know that everything was going to be okay between them. The problem was, he didn’t know if things were gonna be okay. And he was pretty certain that if things got fucked up, it would be because of him. Him and his inability to deal with whatever it was that was happening between them.

Finally, a couple of nights after they got back to the bunker, he woke up to see Cas standing in front of his bed. He stood up and turned on a lamp before walking toward her.

“We need to talk,” she said. They sat down on the bed in concert, faces turned toward each other.

Dean considered making a joke to break the silence, something about how “We need to talk” was human code for “I’m dumping you.” But the thought of it was too real, and he was gripped with an irrational fear that maybe this was actually what was going to happen. Maybe Cas was going to tell him that she couldn’t be around him anymore. The thought was unbearable.

When he finally did break the silence, he tried to keep the tone light, but was surprised to find that his voice was shaking. “Okay, Cas, you got my attention. What’s up?”

She paused for a moment before plainly stating, “Jimmy’s body has been healed.”

Oh. Wow. Dean hadn’t been sure what to expect, but that possibility hadn’t even crossed his mind. Though he kinda should have seen it coming. Still, here she was, telling him like it was some sort of tragedy. And in a way, it was. Because it meant that whatever had been going on these last couple of weeks was over, and neither of them really knew what was going to come next.

He steadied himself and tried again to sound casual, this time with slightly more success, though he knew his words and tone still sounded forced. “That’s great. Yeah, we knew that was coming. So, you ready to meatsuit up?”

“Yes. Well, no. I…I know that it is time to return Jacqueline’s body.”

“Jacqueline, huh?” Cas had never mentioned the new vessel’s name. He began babbling. “Hey, good name. Jackie Novak. Kinda rhymes.”

“Yes, although now it is Jacqueline Rodriguez.”

“Oh yeah. She’s married.” He knew that. Awkward. “So…yeah. Good for you. Good for Jackie.” Why was she telling him this? “Um…so…you’re just…letting me know?”

“Dean…” She looked down for a moment, then lifted her head and met his eyes again. When she spoke, the fluency and matter-of-factness he’d come to associate with Cas was absent. She sounded…well, kinda like Dean did whenever he ventured into emotional territory. Overwhelmed and unsure, struggling to match thoughts with words. “I…I am not sure why I am here.”

She looked positively lost. “I think - I  _know_  it is wrong. I know that I should not say this. But I want to tell you that I know that you prefer this vessel. And…if you ask me to stay…I will. Though Jacqueline deserves better, and I am ashamed to say it, it is the truth. If you ask, I will discard Jimmy’s body and stay like this. For you.”

Dean was in shock. He knew that he wouldn’t ask this of Cas, wouldn’t do this to Jacqueline. Now he knew her name, and it was probably not an accident that Cas chose this time to share it with him, that she kept repeating her name. She was a human being, with a name and a family, and Cas didn’t want to do this to her. But he also believed Cas when she said she would do this if he asked. That was what was so shocking.

“You don’t…no, of course not. Jimmy’s great. You - you go ahead and send Jackie home. It doesn’t matter what body you’re in.” He didn’t know why he bothered to add the last part. To say it was unconvincing was a gross understatement. They both looked away from each other. When they resumed eye contact, Dean saw her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“It is not only…I am not only saying that I wish to please you. I do. But I am also…being selfish. That is why I am ashamed. Because I - the thought that you will never again look at me the way you’ve looked at me in this form…I just cannot…”

Her voice caught and a single tear streamed down her cheek, the first evidence he’d ever seen that Cas could cry. She turned her head away and wiped away the tear. His heart broke, knowing that he was causing her this pain. And for what? Why couldn’t he just say – it really doesn’t matter what body you’re in – and actually mean it? Why couldn’t he just get the fuck over himself already and give in to what they both wanted?

But he couldn’t. And if he tried to lie about this…well, he’d already seen how pathetically transparent he’d been when he’d tried to say those words.

He’d have to go for the truth, or as close to the truth as he could manage. He cupped her chin in his hand and turned her head so she faced him. He kept his eyes open and locked into hers as he swooped in and landed a small, soft kiss on her cheek.

“Hey. Hey! No tears. No sadness, okay? This is a good thing. You’ll get your old body back, and…” He brushed away a lock of her hair and placed it behind her ear, then kept his hand there, cradling the side of her face. “Look Cas…I can’t…I wish I could say that it doesn’t matter what body you’re in, but we both know it does.” He paused dumbly, not sure what came next.

She pulled away from his touch. As she did it, he saw her face transform before his eyes. Just like that, there were no tears, no signs of weakness, no signs of anything.

The sudden emptiness in those familiar blue eyes made Dean’s blood run cold. It reminded him of the look on Cas’s face in the crypt, when he was under Naomi’s control and beating him relentlessly. Dean had known, or hoped, that Cas was still somewhere in there, but when he looked into Cas’s face he saw nothing. It was the same way now. He knew Cas was just hiding, just steeling herself against the unfamiliar and painful emotions that she was experiencing. But it still made Dean feel like he did then. Like maybe his Cas was gone.

Every second that passed without a word from Dean, he felt the distance grow. Like there was a wall that had gone up between them and it would just get thicker if he didn’t do something about it. He stumbled, not really knowing what was coming out of his mouth. “I…If I was better…stronger, I…it wouldn’t matter. But where it counts, it doesn’t matter. No matter what body you’re in, Jackie or Jimmy, whether we kiss or not, none of it’s going to change the way I feel about you. You have to know that.”

His voice was shaking again, but he’d passed the point of no return. He knew what had to come next. He took a deep breath and dove in. “I never say this. I don’t even say this to Sammy, not more than a couple of times a decade. I’ve never said it to a woman other than my mom, and that was when I was four.”

She was quiet now, staring intently at him in confused expectation. Her gaze began to soften, just a tiny bit, and he began to see his Cas again. The sight emboldened him to charge forward, pushing away every screaming instinct that told him to stop.

“I need to say this now, because…because I’m not sure if I’ll be able to say this later. I wish I could, but I am an idiot and an asshole and there’s a very good chance that I’m gonna act weird and not be able to talk to you without sounding like a jackass for at least a little while after you change bodies. But I want you to know, that no matter how stupid I’m acting, this is still true. I will still love you, Cas. And I don’t know if it’s familial love, or friendship, or romantic, or all of that and something more, but I know that I loved you long before you took this body, and I’ll keep loving you after you’ve returned it.”

He felt dizzy with the intensity of feeling his admission brought up. But there was more he had to say, so he plunged forward. “If you ever, ever doubt it, Cas, just look at me. No matter what asinine words I’m saying, no matter how dumb I’m acting, I promise that if you look at me, I will look back at you just like this. And when you see that, you have to know that nothing has changed between us. Nothing that matters, anyway.”

As he spoke, he saw his Cas slowly return. He felt a rush of relief when he was done, though he could barely believe that those words had come tumbling out of  _his_  mouth. It was more honest than he’d been in a long, long time. Cas opened her mouth as if to say something, but was too overcome with emotion. Instead, she just tilted her head and looked at him with those deep blue eyes and a radiant smile.

“Yes. Just like that. See, you don’t need to say anything, and I know just what you’re feeling, right?” She nodded. “It’ll be just like that. We were always pretty big on the staring anyway, right?” That elicited a laugh from both of them, and loosened her up to speak.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Hey, nothing to thank me for. Just speaking the truth.”

“It’s nice to hear it.”

“Yeah well…we’re good, then? Ready to jump back into Jimmy?”

“Yes. Although…”

“What?”

“I will…miss the kissing.”

He chuckled and pressed his lips to hers for what he meant to be one last time. “Yeah, that was some pretty good kissing.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

But for once she didn't vanish in the typical unceremonious Cas-style exit. She actually lingered for a moment, waiting for Dean to return the farewell. He didn’t want to let her go, though, not yet. So he stalled.

“Wait…hold on a sec. We got some other stuff to talk about. You know, hunter stuff.” He was kind of reaching, but there was truth to it. Kevin had deciphered part of the vampire tablet, and he and Sam were planning another trip to the alpha lair. “Besides, it’s late. It’d be rude to switch bodies in the middle of the night.”

She looked at him, slightly confused, but apparently willing to play along. He scooted up in the bed until he had his back to the pillow, then patted the space next to him. Her eyes opened wide, so he said, “Just talking, I promise. And maybe some sleeping.”

“I do not –“

“Yes, I know you don’t need to sleep. I’ll do the sleeping. I’ll even let you watch over me.” He winked.

She smiled and sat down next to him. He put one arm around her and she cuddled up against him. They managed to talk for another half-hour or so before their lips inevitably found each other again.

Dean pulled away, and then sat back, thinking. “Hey…do you remember your suggestion?”

“My suggestion?”

“In the car, that first night. If I remember correctly, you had a pretty convincing argument for why we should keep kissing.”

“Yes. I maintain the validity of my assertion. I do not think that kissing constitutes a violation of the bodily integrity of the vessel.”

“Oh, you sweet talker. Well, I think you made a good point.”

“I certainly did.”

He laughed. “Yes, well, I’m trying to say that I think we should try that tonight. I mean, we’d have to be really careful not to let things…escalate. Like, really careful. 8th grade purity-ring-wearing-born-again careful. Just kissing. On the mouth. Limited touching. Do you think we can pull that off?”

She sighed, but smiled. “I believe I can make a sound argument for more extensive kissing and touching. However, I think this is a reasonable compromise.”

“Good girl.”

“I thought you said I was a bad girl.”

Dean thought about bending her over the Imapla and slapping her ass, and that was not the right image to have in his mind if they were really going to do this. “See, you’re gonna have to be careful about that. I’m not exactly big on self-control.”

“Very well. I’ll be good,” she said in the kind of voice a kid would use when finding out she can only have one piece of candy. Obviously wanting more, but not about to push her luck.

“We should probably be quiet, too. Sammy’s in the bunker.” And he has more than enough ammunition against me from these last couple of weeks, Dean added silently.

“Okay. Is that all? May we resume kissing now?” 

He threw back his head this time, trying to keep his voice down as he cackled. He loved this needy yet still formal version of Cas. Plus, this was definitely the first time a girl had to convince  _him_ to stop talking and cut to the action.

By way of response, he brought his hand to the back of her neck and leaned in, opening his mouth slightly to catch his lips in hers. The room began to hum as it had that time in the hospital, and the light he’d turned on earlier suddenly shut off and then came back on again.

He tried to register every facet of their kisses, commit each sensation to memory. The taste of her mouth, mild and sweet, like honey mixed with vanilla. The feel of her lips against his, her body pressed up against him, her soft hair in his hands. The sounds she made every so often, small quiet moans that he felt as much as heard.

The sounds were his undoing. His breathing became shallow and fast as the blood rushed to his groin. He reluctantly pulled his mouth away and sat back on the headboard, closing his eyes and quietly groaning.

“What is wrong? Are you in pain?”

“Um, kind of.” He had an idea. “Hey, I know this isn’t the classiest move, but would you mind if I head to the bathroom for a little bit? I think if I just take care of this,” he looked down, indicating his tented boxers, “then I can come back and we can keep kissing and not have to worry about anything, you know, getting out of hand.”

She followed his gaze, and saw the head of his cock peeking out from the slit in his shorts. Yeah, this was a situation that needed to be taken care of, one way or another.

“I would not be opposed to that. However…may I make another suggestion?”

“Um, sure. I mean, so far I’m a pretty big fan of your suggestions.” He grinned.

“Well, what if you took care of that…here. I mean, I would sit on one side of the bed, and…” she blushed, adding to the repertoire of things he hadn’t been sure Cas did. “I wouldn’t touch you or anything…I would just like to watch you. If you would not mind.”

Wasn't she just full of surprises. He considered it, and though it seemed like playing with fire, they’d gotten this far and kept things relatively respectable. This was kinda dirty, but it definitely didn’t involve Jacqueline’s body. Other than her eyes, of course.

The thought of being able to look into those blues as he came, not just imagine them but really look into them, was enough to convince him.

“Okay, um, I guess we can try it,” he said hesitantly, still kind of thrown by the suggestion and his own ready acceptance of it. “You’d have to sit far away. Like the total opposite end of the bed. Maybe the opposite side of the room.”

She promptly stood up and walked to the foot of the bed, standing a couple of feet away. She wasn’t clear across the room, but she was far enough away that they couldn’t touch even if they wanted to, as long as she stayed rooted in that spot. She stood virtually motionless, except for her gaze, which swept across his body in a way that diverged significantly from her usual fixed stare.

He felt a little self-conscious, but his dick was throbbing and Cas’s suggestion had just made that worse. So he laid back, closed his eyes, and began lightly stroking himself.

“Dean.”

“Huh?” He wasn’t expecting interruptions.

“I won’t disturb you anymore, but I was wondering…would you mind, perhaps, laying on top of the blankets. And…” she paused.

“And?”

“And taking your clothes off?”

“Cas, are you asking me to strip for you?”

“No. Yes. I mean, you do not have to perform for me. I would just like to be able to see you. All of you. To remember you like this.”

“You kinky little angel.” He had to admit, the thought of spreading out on his bed, fully naked and touching himself while she watched was kind of alarming, but also really hot. “Well, normally I don’t like to be objectified, but since you asked so nicely…” A thought suddenly popped into his head. “Hey Cas, have you ever…watched me? Like this?”

She looked down for a moment, then back up again. “I…have seen you. Accidentally, in three instances.”

“Three?”

“But I have never watched you. Each time it happened, I left before I manifested visibly.”

“You could have stayed invisible, though, right?”

“Yes, but I would not impinge on your privacy in such a way. Though I must admit, I certainly did want to. And I thought about watching you…but I would not do that to you.”

Huh. Well, far be it from him to deny a girl her fantasy. He pulled back the sheets so she could get a full view of him, then peeled off his shirt slowly, arching his back.

He really did feel kind of like a stripper. But whatever he was doing, it seemed to be working. Cas’s eyes were almost glazed, and the faint hum that had surrounded them intensified. Dean could feel minute vibrations in the bed, like angel-powered Magic Fingers.

He swept a thumb along the inside of the waistband in his boxers, but stopped before going any further. “Hey, Cas?” She looked startled and a bit angry at the interruption, which made Dean want to laugh. “I’m feeling a little shy here being the only one in the room without most of my clothes on. You think you could, I don’t know, maybe unbutton a few buttons at least. You know, in solidarity?”

She mulled over this for half a minute, then abruptly dropped her skirt and stepped out of it. Her untucked blouse now served as a nightie, barely covering what Dean remembered from that night on the Impala were black satin panties. She undid the same two buttons of her blouse that Dean had undone that night, leaving her shirt open to just below her black lace bra. She spread the collar wide, so he could get a good look at her.

She would have looked stunning in a T-shirt, but like this - the half undone blouse, the long legs clad only in stockings and black heels, the lust in her half-shuddered eyes, and the increasing impatience visible in her soft and pouty lips - 

Dean didn’t take his time ripping his boxers off. He kicked them off the bed like they were an enemy and spread his whole body out, stifling a groan as he began working himself more forcefully. Again he leaned back and shut his eyes, only to be interrupted once again.

“Look at me.”

The tone of her voice had changed completely. He opened his eyes and sought hers. Though they were still half-lidded, they were bright and alive. And laser-focused on him.

He opened his mouth as if to object, but closed it up again. She held his gaze and – yes, it was exactly this part of Cas that excited and unnerved him the most. That one minute she could be acting like a bashful schoolgirl, confessing a charming and seemingly benign fantasy. And the next minute, that fantasy was flipped on its head, suddenly turning into something much darker, even a little threatening.

He shivered and obeyed.

She voiced her commands silently, but Dean felt he could understand exactly what she was ordering him to do.  _Slower. Yes, like that. Touch yourself with your other hand. Let me feel you through your fingertips._

His right hand formed a circle around his cock and he moved it steadily, up and down, twisting slightly when he reached the head. His left hand wandered across his body, slowing at his chest to trace the edges of his tattoo before sliding down his ribs and toward his thigh.

He stroked the crease between his thigh and groin before letting himself – well, before Cas let him – begin to knead his balls and then press a knuckle against his taint. A gasp escaped his lips and he began moving slightly faster, seeking wordless approval before picking up the pace and intensity.

He yearned desperately to come, but the look in her eyes was clear.  _Not yet_.

She held his gaze the entire time, but was clearly also following his every movement, a benefit of the birds eye view that left him so thoroughly exposed. There was something so different about this, so intimate in a way that was entirely unlike Dean’s usual sweaty, tangled up experience of sex. He never would have expected this to be such a turn-on, but it was just so unbelievably… _erotic_ was the word that popped into Dean’s mind. It wasn’t a word he’d ever really used before, outside Casa Erotica, but yes, this was something beyond sexy, something sensual and heavy.

Dean felt himself sweating and shaking with the effort of self-restraint. He searched her eyes, seeking permission to go faster, harder, and when she nodded her assent, he bucked his hips and began fucking his hand savagely. The room was abuzz now, the vibrating bed multiplying the flood of sensations throughout Dean’s body.

Soon the only words left in his head were  _Cas_ and  _please_ and  _let me_ and  _oh God…_

He looked at her pleadingly, would have begged if she let him, but instead it was she who spoke next.

“Now.”

And he came in fiery bursts. It was positively volcanic, his cock shooting streams of lava-like come onto his stomach and chest. His breathing slowed along with his hand as he rode the aftershocks. It seemed to go on forever, but finally he finished and stilled, letting out a long, deep sigh.

The buzzing in the room quieted slightly, and the room was filled instead with the sound of heels clicking as Cas slowly walked toward the side of his bed. Her eyes, which had been narrowed with lust and control a moment ago, opened wide.

She stood by the bed, and Dean once again had no idea what she was going to do next. Her expression was difficult to read, but it was expansive and maybe, curious? She leaned down and placed one finger on his stomach, swirling the come around before lifting her finger and watching, fascinated, as the viscous fluid formed a thin string connecting her hand to his abdomen.

Again she’d flipped, going from the commanding director of one of the more bawdy scenes in Dean’s far-from-modest sex life, to someone so open and inquisitive it was almost childlike. He couldn’t keep up.

“Cas, you’re giving me whiplash.”

She tilted her head in that singular way and looked at him, concerned. “You do not appear to be injured.”

He was overwhelmed with the urge to tackle her. And so he did, pulling her down on top of him and muffling the sound of her resulting yelp with his mouth.

“Shhh,” he said, though he couldn’t keep himself from laughing. “Sam’s here, remember?”

She looked at him, slightly bewildered, and he laughed again before bringing her mouth to his, closing the distance between them. He felt himself stick to her with sweat, and as he looked down he noticed the dark splotches that had formed where her blouse had met the mess of come on his torso. He felt suddenly embarrassed.

“Oh, Cas, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to…”

She followed his gaze to the shirt. “Oh, this?” As soon as she said it, they were both cleaned up. That really was a handy trick.

Her hand remained on his chest, then slowly grazed over other parts of his body. The way she looked at him, the way she touched him, was so purposeful and appreciative. Something akin to worship. “You...you don’t even know…”

“What don’t I know?”

“You have no idea how breathtaking you are, Dean. How beautiful.”

“Hey,” he said, reddening a little at the compliment, “shouldn’t that be my line?”

She looked down at her body. “Oh yes, this. I suppose that Jacqueline –“

“No, not Jackie. You. You are beautiful. No matter what vessel you’re in.”

She smiled slightly. “Yes, I do feel that your beauty extends beyond the physical as well. But to be perfectly honest, I do particularly enjoy your physical form.”

“Oh yeah?” He pinned her to the bed and caught her in another kiss, this one slow and languorous. His tongue dove deeply into her mouth, wrestling with hers, while his hand slid down the side of her body until it rested on her upper thigh. He felt her stockings, as he had before. Only now, temporarily freed from the hunger that had previously made him want to rip them off, he savored the silken feel of the fabric in his fingers as he caressed her.

She moaned. “Dean.”

“Cas.” This may be more difficult than he thought. Though he still felt calm and was relishing the ability to touch her fully without fearing that they’d take things too far, he didn’t know how much longer that would last. Especially not with the two of them like this, her half-dressed and him fully naked, both of them licking and nipping and writhing against each other.

He stopped himself and took a deep breath. This time she relieved him of the responsibility of ending their explorations, assessing the situation and stating factually, “We should be clothed.”

He reluctantly agreed. “Yeah, I hate to say it, but if you’re gonna stay here – and I really do want you to stay the night – we probably should put some clothes on.”

She looked resigned, but then, before he had a chance to retract his statement, she was fully dressed. Trench coat and all.

 “You can probably ditch the coat. And hey, what about me?”

She removed the coat, and gave him a sly smile. “I would prefer to watch you put your clothing on. Slowly, if possible.”

He laughed. “Hey, what’d I say about being objectified?” But again he complied, letting her watch as he bent over to pick up his boxers and put them on. He thought about getting the T-shirt too, but that just seemed like entirely too much clothing. She seemed pleased as he sat down by her feet, shirtless.

He grasped her foot in one hand, and she looked at him questioningly. “You can probably lose these, too,” he said, and then removed her left, then right, shoe. He tried tickling her feet through the pantyhose, just to see if it would garner any reaction, but he just saw the same quizzical countenance. Guess angels weren’t ticklish. He crawled up the bed, letting his hand linger as he swept up her body, then disentangled himself and sat by her side. He felt a yawn coming, and attempted to suppress it.

“You are tired.”

“I don’t wanna go to sleep.” He knew he sounded like a kid protesting nap time, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want this night to end. Not yet.

“Here,” she said, and placed a pillow on her lap, motioning for him to lay his head down on it. “This way it will be very easy for me to watch over you.”

Dean couldn’t resist. “Okay,” he said, resting his head, and he felt an overwhelming sense of peace overtake him as he settled in her lap. He faced her, one side of his face on her lap and his body curled up in a slight diagonal across the bed. She stroked his hair one with one hand and placed the other on his stomach.

He could fall asleep like this. Easily. The post-orgasmic drowsiness, the blissful comfort, all conspiring to send him off. But he resisted.

“Cas, talk to me.”  
  
“What would you like to talk about, Dean?”

“No, I don’t want to talk.” He yawned again, and this time didn’t try to suppress it. “Just talk to me. Keep me up. Tell me…whatever you’re thinking.”

She hesitated. “I am not certain what I should say.”

“It’s okay. Just whatever…thoughts come to your head. No right or wrong, I just…I want to hear your voice.” Which was true. He wanted to hear her and feel her and just keep feeling like this, for as long as possible. “Just say whatever’s in your head. It doesn’t even have to make sense.”

“As you wish.” She sighed and looked pensive. “I am thinking about…sex.” Dean fought hard to keep himself from giggling, not wanting to scare her off from continuing.

“I remember watching humans from afar. For nearly two thousand years, I watched them. And I found sex to be a curious thing. The way people invested so much meaning into it. Or not. The way their statements and actions regarding it so rarely matched. I found the idea of sex to be interesting in the abstract. But the actual act never seemed particularly fascinating when I was in my true form.”

“In this vessel, however, I have learned so much. I still have much to learn, but I feel I understand things that I never did before. Like why sex is so important to some people. Why some contend that it is sacred and should only be shared with one person. And then others are eager to explore it with seemingly every person they meet.”

Dean felt like that last piece was directed at him, but he kept his mouth shut.

“It is more than just pleasure. Seeing you now as I just did, at your moment of release - you were transcendent. I saw it all. Your utter loss of self. And though I was not a participant, the fact that you were willing to share this with me, it was just…magnificent. Almost too much to bear. I think I understand why so many say my Father’s name in this moment. Wherever He is, this is certainly a gift He has left for humanity. It brings them closer to Him than anything angels could experience.”

He listened intently as she free-associated through her thoughts. He didn’t know where she was going with this, but he appreciated this rare insight into his angel’s inner monologue. 

 “We angels love each other, certainly. But all angels are our brothers and sisters, and so, none is more special than the other. This partiality – I believe it is part of what made God revere you above all his other creations. Lucifer never understood it. He planted the seeds of evil so that it would twist the best part of humanity against itself. Romantic love mutated into jealousy. Familial loyalty turned into prejudice against outsiders. The same fidelity that brought people together became the greatest weapon of war, tricking people into dehumanizing those that didn’t belong to their group. But loving some is not the same as hating others. God’s son knew this.”

Dean opened one eye. “JC?”

“Yes. I never encountered him myself, but knew several who did. I am quite familiar with the stories, both published and unpublished. I believe it is true what they say, that he was both divine and human. Not simply God in a vessel, but someone who was fully God and fully man. As a manifestation of God, He loved all his children, and he healed all who came to him. But as a man, he loved certain people. He wept when his friend died. When he saw how his other friends suffered because of it. No doubt when he thought of how they would suffer at his death. He spent some of his last mortal moments telling his Beloved to take care of his mother, and his mother to look upon him as her son. It is this partiality, this loyalty, that I see in you, Dean Winchester. You save indiscriminately, but you love just a few. And for those, you are willing to sacrifice yourself in every possible way. It is the height of humanity. Greater love hath no man than this: that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

“Cas…are you quoting the Bible?”

“Yes, John 15:13.”

“Okay. You just…you do realize that it wasn’t very long ago that you were ordering me to take my clothes off and jerk off in front of you, right?”

“Yes.”

“Just checking.”

“I see no contradiction, Dean.” And here she became insistent. “Sex can be many things. I have seen its versatility. It can be amusing, relaxing, invigorating. It can ease interpersonal conflict, or help people learn about each other. But at its pinnacle it is a complete dissolution of self, an abandonment of the boundaries between one and the other. It is, I believe, why God chose to associate this process with the creation of new life. Which is not to say that this is its only purpose. Frankly, I’ve never understood those who make that allegation. Beyond the fact that those who say this very rarely behave in a way that is compatible with this view, it is simply illogical. If sex was only for procreation, then a woman would only be interested in sex when she was capable of conceiving. Those who are older, infertile, pregnant, breastfeeding, they would never show even the slightest interest. There certainly wouldn’t be an extraordinarily sensitive part of the female anatomy associated with sex that serves no reproductive function.”

“Amen to that, sister.”

“And there would be no sexual desire between those who could not reproduce. Between two women, or between two men. And yet, there clearly is, and always has been.”

Dean quieted at this turn in the conversation. But Cas simply continued, “I believe that the creation of new life in the act of sex is a clue. It is an indication of how powerful the act can be. And it is no coincidence that the decision to repeatedly engage in sexual activity with the same person is often associated with a strong feeling of protection and loyalty. The same love that I spoke of earlier. It was something that I could not understand as an angel. Though we may care for one another, we never merge into one another. We never lose ourselves. And unlike humans, we do not love so strongly that we would willingly sacrifice our lives to save another.”

She fell quiet, and he felt obliged to speak.

“You did.”

She gazed down at him lovingly, still stroking his hair. “Only because you taught me.”

Dean drifted off as she continued her soliloquy, catching snatches of sentences here and there. “Heaven is…the meaning of…it is only…” He wanted to stay up, to hear all of it, but he was just so relaxed. He dreamed of blue skies.

When he woke up, she was gone.

He sat up and sighed, feeling the weight of her absence, then pulled on his robe and headed out toward the kitchen. He could hear Sam talking, presumably to Kevin.

But it wasn’t Kevin.

Dean started when he saw Cas standing there talking to Sam, back turned toward him. The same tan trenchcoat was now draped over broad shoulders.

Cas, first edition. Original recipe. Extra manly.

Dean stood in the doorway in awkward silence, wondering if he could make it out of their line of sight and back to his bedroom before they noticed him. Sam caught him before he could flee. “Hey, Cas is back. I was just telling him about our vamp plan.” 

Cas turned around to face him, ocean blue eyes filled with expectation.

"Hello Dean." 


	4. Trigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a flashback to his teen years that puts him in a bad space. Sam is an awesome brother and pulls him out of it.

Here it was. Moment of truth. And yet again, Dean had no idea what to say.

He shifted uncomfortably, before managing to eek out a generic greeting.

“Hey Cas, welcome back. Good to see you, man." Yep, he was a complete and total assbutt. 

“I am pleased to see you, as well,” Cas replied, and Dean could hear the disappointment in his voice. He couldn’t blame him. Hell, he was disappointed in himself.

But then Cas looked into his eyes, and Dean knew what he had to do, what he’d promised he’d do. He took a deep breath and looked up, and he could swear those eyes were somehow even bluer than the pair he’d been staring into these last couple of weeks. He tried to block everything out except the feeling that he hoped he could convey to make up for his pitiable words.

Dean looked deeply into those brilliant blues and hoped that Cas could hear the words he couldn't bring himself to say out loud. 

They stood there, staring at each other in long silence, until they were interrupted by an “ahem.”

Their heads both turned toward Sam. Before they did, Dean saw a smile begin to spread across Cas’s face. He silently cheered. It worked.

And it kept working, for a couple of weeks at least. It was awkward and insufficient, but it held things together for a little while. There were even times when Dean could almost pretend that things were just as they were before all of this, when fought side by side and danced around each other and acted as if there was nothing smoldering underneath.

But there were other times when he couldn’t pretend. When he’d catch Cas’s eye and all he could think about was the fact that those eyes – maybe not those specific eyes, but the angel peering through them – had watched him come undone. Had ordered him to do it. There were times when he was slick and sweaty after a fight, blood pumping and adrenaline flowing, and all he wanted to do was throw Cas against a wall, or bend him over a car. When their hands or thighs would come into accidental contact as they walked side by side, and Dean would shiver at the touch, instantly feeling heat between them.

And then there were the dreams, mixing memories of the female Cas with imagined scenes between him and this one. There was one dream in particular that he’d had multiple times, a reenactment of the night on the Impala, only with their roles switched. Dean was bent over the hood of the car on all fours, keening, feeling Cas’s fingers raking through his hair and Cas’s cock hard and leaking against him.

He’d wake up in a sweat and not be able to go back to sleep.

It would be the easiest thing in the world to just reach out to Cas, to give in to the magnet that kept pulling their bodies together, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was too fraught. What if something went wrong? What if he started something up with Cas he couldn’t actually follow through on? That would just be so much worse.

This was safer. Inadequate, yes, but Dean wasn’t ready to let go of whatever it was that they had. This unspoken acknowledgement of their connection - for now, it had to be enough.

Cas didn’t push it, but every once in a while, when Dean was being particularly distant or douchey, he would look at Dean in that way that meant that he needed reassurance. More often than not, Dean was being a dbag in response to a dream or after fighting a particularly strong yearning for physical contact, so it wasn’t easy for him to give in. But he’d made a promise, and he knew that this tenuous bond between them, this temporary stasis, largely rested on his ability to keep that promise. So he’d steel himself, take a breath, push away all the inner conflict and tell himself _I will do this for Cas._ And their eyes would lock and he’d see Cas warm, and it would all be worth it.

Half the time they’d only stop after hearing a throat clearing or other noise and realize that Sam was standing right there. Although it was a little embarrassing, making Sammy uncomfortable was also kind of a bonus.

Dean found himself grateful for the moments when he was forced to let go, to pour out all of the emotion he spent so much time trying to ignore. It was supposed to be for Cas, but having this one non-negotiable act of acquiescence to his feelings was surprisingly comforting for him. He knew their arrangement was probably unsustainable, but he had no desire to rock the boat.

In the meantime, they had plenty to do. With a little help from the vamp tablet, they finally ganked that smug Alpha sonofabitch, and that was gratifying, to say the least.

Unfortunately, since all the other Alphas had been killed by Crowley during the search for Purgatory, it was that much harder to find the other tablets. The vamp tablet alluded to other tablets devoted to children of Eve – shapeshifters, skinwalkers, djinn. They weren’t really sure where to start, so they followed strange happenings as they had always done, but with an ear to the ground and extra interest in any creature that may get them closer to a tablet. They got a lead on the shapeshifter tablet, even letting a few of those lowlifes go in exchange for information.

It was a shapeshifting piece of shit that ended up bursting the fragile bubble surrounding Dean and Cas and their not-quite-relationship.

That’s a lie. It was Dean. And he was the piece of shit for letting it happen.

After following a chain of leads, they found a shifter that had positioned himself as sort of a successor to the Alpha that Crowley had killed. There were rumors that he’d taken over some of the Alpha Shapeshifter’s properties and relics, and so it seemed like a fair bet that he may have the tablet or know where it could be found. They ganked his lackeys and hauled him back to the bunker, sticking him in the dungeon and doing their best to pump him for intel. Despite their best efforts, the shifter wasn’t budging. 

Dean decided he’d get creative. He had no desire to go back to torturing, but he certainly knew enough to get specific with his threats. He told Sam and Cas to hang back – he didn’t want them to see him like this, even if he was all talk – and he went in for some quality one-on-one dungeon time.

He walked slowly toward the shifter, letting him get a good look at the silver knife in his hand. Standing behind the chair where the shifter was bound, he grabbed him by the hair with one hand and slid the blade slowly across his neck, barely grazing him.

“Carving was always one of my favorites. Each time just a little bit different. The patterns, the pacing, all of it varied just enough that each piece was its own little work of art.”

He let the shifter’s hair go and walked around the table to face him.

“But you shed your skin like it’s nothing. This skin isn’t you. I wonder if you’d even feel it if I tried shallow slices.”

He stopped, adopting a thoughtful posture. “No, I think for you, I would have to work from the inside out. Maybe start in here.” He poked the shifter’s flabby stomach. “You’re giving me a lot to work with.”

The paunch at the end of his knife flattened and soon Dean found himself looking into familiar green eyes. He laughed.

“Oh, if you think I won’t gut you just because you’re wearing my face, you really haven’t done your homework. The last time one of your freak brothers tried that, I shot him point blank. Didn’t even flinch.” He prodded a little harder with the knife just to make his point. “And now you don’t even have all that cushioning. I wonder how deep I’ll have to go before you can really start to feel it.”

Green eyes looked back up at him, crinkling at the edges, and lips curled into Dean’s signature smirk. The asshole was smirking at him with his own face.

“So you wanna go deep, huh? I bet you do.”

Dean felt a dent forming in his armor, but tried to brush it off. There was no way he was gonna let this freak mess with his head.

“But you don’t really want me, do you? It's that angel you can’t wait to get inside of.”

Fuck. “Nice try, asshole. You think you’re gonna throw me off with some mind games, you’ll see how that turns out.”

The sound of Dean’s laughter filled the room. But it wasn’t his. “I don’t think I need to play mind games with you. You’re playing enough of them with yourself. Man, I’ve seen some twisted brains, but yours is…I mean, where do I begin?”

He leaned back and smiled at Dean with his own cocky grin. “You’ve really got your panties in a bunch over this angel thing.” Dean glared. “And yes, I am mentioning panties on purpose. Because that’s part of your trip, isn’t it? If the angel’s in a girl’s body, you can want her and know you’re still a man. But if you still want to bend over the boy angel…or have him bend you over…what does that make you?”

Dean felt his whole body burn red. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe this was in fact a completely fucking terrible idea. Because he could barely handle his own thoughts, and now he’d have to hear them out loud from some sadistic bastard using his own voice as a weapon.  

His eyes darted toward the door, but leaving was not an option. He wasn’t going to let himself break that easily. Besides, even if he left, there’d still be this shifter here, helping himself to Dean's tightly guarded secrets, and probably more than happy to share with Sam and Cas once they got back in the room. The only thing worse than having to hear this shit would be knowing that they were hearing it.

He’d have to just play it cool, make the shifter think it didn’t faze him. He’d sort of blown his shot a bit with the obvious blush and search for escape, but he could come back from that. He chuckled as he had before, trying his best to sound unimpressed.

“So you’re looking in my mind, huh? And that’s supposed to bother me? Please, go ahead and look around. While you’re there, check out some of my finer moments in Hell. Just in case you were wondering if I was serious. You’ve got my brain now. You know just what I can do.” He slammed the knife into his open palm for emphasis.

There were some benefits to the shifter having Dean’s face. For one thing, Dean knew what he looked like when he was bluffing, and that was exactly what was happening to the shifter right now. He tried to look nonchalant, but his eyes widened just slightly with fear. Bullseye.

“Now tell me – where is the fucking tablet?”

The shifter’s head jerked slightly, kind of vibrating, and Dean remembered Sammy describing something like that with the last shifter. The memory download or whatever it was. He looked at Dean, nodding. “Ah yes, the tablet. You already got the vampire tablet, and now you want ours. Well, I think you can understand my reluctance here, considering what you’ve done so far with the vamp tablet. I mean, even if I did know where it was, it really wouldn’t serve me well to tell you where it is. But of course, I have no idea where it is anyway. So I guess you’re out of luck.”

“I think I’ll keep trying my luck.”

“Oh, but I’d so much rather talk about more interesting topics. Truly, your mind is one of a kind. And your dilemma is rather unique, though my siblings and I are probably better equipped to understand it than most. After all, we’re not really big sticklers for gender continuity. But you - you’re just thrown. And now you can’t get these images out of your head.” His head jerked again. “All these filthy images. I’m rather enjoying them, but you just won’t let yourself, will you?”  
  
Dean didn’t know how much longer he could pretend to keep his cool, or whether he was actually fooling anyone. “Okay, enough of the therapy session, Dr. Phil. If you really don’t know where the tablet is, you’re useless to me. So you better hope you’ve got something to say I’m actually interested in…”

The shifter sighed, and just continued as if Dean hadn’t said anything. “It’s a shame, really. You could be having so much fun. You know what you want. What you are. Think of all the things you could do with those –“ his head jerked again “- dick sucking lips.” He leaned back, grinning wide and wicked, as if in triumph.

For a second, everything was white and empty. When the world came back into focus, Dean wondered at first if he was dead. Because he was outside his own body, looking at his own corpse.

But no, that wasn’t him. He looked down and saw the silver knife in his hand, now plunged into the shifter’s heart. He released it and stared at his hand for a moment, then leaned back against the wall and slowly slid to the floor.

_“Hey Winchester, anybody ever tell you, you got DSL?”_

_The other boys at the table laughed, and one chimed in, “Yeah. Dick suckin’ lips. You use those a lot in your old school, pretty boy?”_

_Dean felt overtaken by rage, and though he knew he shouldn’t, he couldn’t help himself. It didn’t help that he’d been plagued with images like the one described, his lips wrapped around – enough of that. He started to stand up, making a motion toward their table. “You wanna come over here, Derek, and say that to my face?”_

_The boys just laughed harder. He knew he didn’t look like much, but that’d make it that much more gratifying to see the look on their faces when he wiped them all out. He’d taken on things that would leave them pissing and shitting in their pants, if they thought that he’d –_

_“Hey, don’t let them get you riled up. Those assholes aren’t worth it.”_

_Dean turned, ready to direct his anger at this new intruder. But he stopped short when he saw the gentlest pair of blue-gray eyes he’d ever seen, fixed on his own._

_The eyes were attached to a boy Dean had seen around once or twice but never really looked at before. Now he took the whole figure in. He was tall, a couple of inches taller than Dean, and somehow even skinnier. He was carrying his lunch tray – must have just gotten off the line. His light brown hair was swept over to one side of his face, barely concealing long lashes. His features were bird-like, but not in a harsh way. Just looking at him made Dean feel calmer._

_He took a couple of breaths. “You’re right, they’re not worth it.” He sat down again, then mumbled half to himself “I could kick their asses though.”_

_To his surprise, the boy set his tray down across from him and sat down. “Really?”_

_Dean wondered for a second if they guy was fucking with him, but all he saw was earnest curiosity. “Yeah, they’re nothing. You should see some of the folks I’ve fought.”_

_“Wow. I mean, I’m not into violence, but…sometimes I think I’d make an exception for certain people.” He looked over to the table of loudmouths and rolled his eyes, which made Dean laugh._

_“Yeah, but you’re right, they’re not worth it. I’m supposedly gonna stick around this school for a little while, so I probably shouldn’t get suspended in my 2 nd week.” _

_“Stick around for a while? You move a lot?”_

_“Yeah, I’ve been to a lot of schools.” And this is probably the longest conversation I’ve had with anyone in about 7 schools – but this boy didn’t have to know that._

_“I just moved here last year. Not a huge fan of the locals, I must admit. I’m Jamie, by the way.”_

_“Dean.”_

_They sat in awkward silence, then Jamie looked down at Dean’s tray, which was nearly empty._

_“Whoa, you really like the food here or something?”_

_“Uh, I don’t think anyone likes cafeteria food. But you know, it’s food.” Shitty and not enough of it, but it was better than nothing. Which is what Dean had for breakfast._

_Jamie looked down at his own tray and pointed at the beef patty wrapped in silver paper. “You want this? I’m not gonna eat it.”_

_Dean’s stomach grumbled. Yes, he wanted it, but he wasn’t about to be a charity case. “I’m not gonna eat your lunch, man. It’s cool, I’m just a fast eater.”_

_“No, I’m serious, I’m a vegetarian. I mean, I eat some stuff that has little pieces of meat in it just because I’d never be able to eat in Texas otherwise, but this –“ he shifted the patty around with a fork, looking at it with obvious distaste “- I’m not touching this. It’s going straight in the trash.”_

_“You’re a vegetarian?” Dean looked at him incredulously._

_“Yeah. Well, I’m from California, lots of people are vegetarian there.” He looked a little defensive, and Dean felt bad for putting him on the spot like that. Though he could never imagine giving up meat willingly. That probably explained why the guy was so thin.  “Of course, it’s easier to be one in California, since they don’t cram meat into every possible food. I swear I can’t even get vegetables here that don’t come with pork or something.”_

_“Yeah, like God intended.” Dean smiled and then relented. “If it’s between me and the trash, I’ll take it.”_

_“It’s totally between you and the trash.” He handed Dean the patty and Dean ate half of it in about 2.5 seconds._

_“Totally. So do you totally talk like that in California, dude?” Dean exaggerated a surfer style. He started to feel guilty again – this guy was actually being nice to him, and he just kept making fun of him – but then he saw the boy’s grin, signaling that he was taking the teasing as it was meant._

_“Totally. Everyone totally talks like that there.” Jamie said in a spot-on valley-girl impression. “Ohmygod. It is, like, so totally rad.”_

_It was a good thing that Dean had already drunk his milk, because at this point he was snorting so forcefully that milk would probably be pouring out of his nose. As it was he was laughing so loud that a couple of people nearby glanced over to see what was happening. Jamie went on in his valley-girl speak, narrating the action, “Ohmygod, can you even believe they are like, totally looking at us right now? Like seriously, can you stop being so obsessed with us.” Dean just kept cracking up._

_After school, Dean was pleasantly surprised to find that Jamie actually lived near Sam’s school. They walked together until they reached the school, and then Jamie went off towards his house. For the first time since they’d arrived, Dean thought that maybe sticking around in this place for a while wouldn’t be so bad._

_The next day at lunch, Jamie sat across from Dean again, and before he even said hello, he handed him a piece of paper. On it was a comic-style drawing of Dean, drop-kicking Derek._

_“Fuckin’ A, Jay, you did this?”_

_“Yeah, I figured…I mean, it’s fun to think about, right?”_

_“You’re really good, you know? This is awesome!”_

_Jamie looked a bit bashful then deflected with his valley-girl speak. “Yeah, it’s totally awesome!” Dean didn’t press the point, but it really did look badass. That day they met up again and walked together, solidifying an unspoken agreement. Every day became a waiting game to an even greater extent than school usually was. First waiting for lunch so he could see Jamie, then waiting for the end of the day, so he and Jamie could walk back together. The walks were the best because they didn’t have to deal with anyone else._

_Sometimes Sam would want to stay late for some after-school thing – God, he was such a nerd – and Dean would go over to Jamie’s house. It was tiny, but it had a full size fridge, and it was usually packed with leftovers. Jamie’s mom worked nights, but she cooked and left food for him, and there was always too much._

_It was all vegetarian stuff, potato casseroles and pasta and things like that, but it was food and it was free and it was actually pretty good. Jamie never mentioned it, but he could probably tell that Dean didn’t get a lot to eat, and he seemed to get satisfaction from feeding him._

_When Dad disappeared for a while and they started to run low on food, Dean began bringing Sammy over to Jamie’s after school. Jamie never said anything, just made an extra plate for Sam. After a while it looked like there were even more leftovers, like maybe Jamie had said something to his mom or his mom just noticed that he was going through food faster than usual. Dean didn’t question it. He was just glad that he didn’t have to worry about how they’d eat. And Sammy loved the stuff._

_“Maybe I should be a vegetarian!”_

_“No Sam. Just – no.”_

_“But Jamie’s a vegetarian!”_

_“Jamie can do whatever he wants. You’re gonna keep eating burgers if I have to stuff ‘em down your throat.”_

_Sam loved Jamie’s house, and so even after their father returned, Dean kept bringing him over. One day they were hanging out eating cheese-covered vegetables, and Sam let something slip about Dean fighting monsters. Dean had to come up with a quick save, so he told Jamie that he made up stories for Sammy about fighting monsters. That’s how the comic started. Soon, Dean found himself telling Jamie all about their adventures, with slight details changed. Jamie thought they were just really cool stories, and he illustrated their adventures. It made Dean think about hunting in a completely different way. Like maybe they were kinda sorta superheroes. It all seemed a lot cooler in a comic panel._

_Dad usually didn’t get back until late at night, if he came back at all, and so Dean never bothered to tell him about Jamie. Sammy the big mouth was another story. One Sunday evening, their father was home cleaning his weapons, and Dean started out the door._

_“Where you headed, Dean?” John asked, without looking up from his gun._

_“He’s going over to Jay-mie’s,” Sam said in a teasing sing-songy voice. Dean gave him his best I-will-kill-you-in-your-sleep glare, and Sam shut right up. But the damage was done, even though their father didn't’ seem to mind._

_He smiled – a rare sight - and looked up from his gun. “Jamie, huh? Well, have fun. Don’t get into too much trouble.”_

_And that was it. Dean never mentioned him again, and he made damn sure Sam never did._

_It wasn’t that he was ashamed of Jamie, it was just that – Jamie belonged to a completely different part of Dean’s life than his Dad did. With his Dad, it was all hunting and taking care of Sammy. With Jamie, it felt like…well, like someone was actually taking care of him for once. He fed him, he listened to him, he worried about him. Sometimes, Dean looked at those sky-blue eyes that were so much like his Mom’s eyes, and just let himself bask in the warm feelings they brought._

_He knew it was all gonna come to an end sometime. Probably sooner than he expected. Despite his Dad’s promise that they would actually try to stick around for a while, for Sammy’s sake, he could see that itch in his father. He’d made a couple of references to something on the East Coast, a possible lead on the demon that started their hunting in the first place, and Dean knew that it was only a matter of time. He hinted to Jamie that they might be leaving soon, but neither of them wanted to believe it._

_Jamie kept caring for Dean, and Dean kept letting him. One day after school, they were back at the house and Jamie pushed his shoulder playfully, eliciting a wince from Dean. He’d been on a hunt with his Dad recently, and had gotten cut pretty bad. He didn’t let his Dad see it – he’d probably just get in trouble for letting it happen. And it wasn’t that deep, just sort of big, a gash stretching from just above his chest to shoulder._

_“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”_   
  
_“It’s nothing,” Dean said, half-hoping he’d drop it, and half-hoping he wouldn’t._

_“Show me.” Jamie gave him that nurturing but stern look that said he wouldn’t be letting this go. Dean reluctantly peeled off his shirt, and heard Jamie’s gasp as he revealed the wound._

_Shit. It wasn’t just the cut. Dean’s torso was bruised in so many places he’d lost count. He’d taken it in so much stride that he actually didn't even think about it until he saw Jamie’s eyes roaming over his body, widening in concern._

_“It’s no big deal, really.”_

_“Dean - ” Jamie saw the look on his face, and seemingly decided to take a different tact. “Dean, that cut really needs to be covered. It’s just waiting to get infected. Here, wait, my mom has a first aid kit.”_

_He was probably right, the cut wasn’t healing as quickly as he’d hoped. So Dean waited patiently while Jamie got the first aid kit, nervously clucking like a mother hen while he cleaned out Dean’s wound. He covered it with a bandage and began securing the bandage with tape before he spoke another word. His voice was especially soft._

_“Your Dad?”_

_Dean knew what he was asking. “It wasn’t my Dad.” Though in truth, at least a couple of the bruises were from John. Either way, he knew he didn’t sound especially convincing, but it wasn’t like he could tell the truth._

_Jamie got quiet for a minute, then looked into his eyes purposefully. “My Dad hit me. A lot. He hit my Mom too. That’s why we left. We figured he wouldn’t find us out here.”_

_They stood there in silence while Jamie finished taping the bandage in place. Dean felt humbled by his friend’s confession, by his bold honesty, and he felt like he should say something in return. Before he knew what he was saying, things just started tumbling out._

_“My mom died when I was 4. Sammy was a baby. She died in a fire. My Dad – he couldn’t save her. He couldn’t find the person who set the fire. We keep trying, but – he’s not a bad guy, he’s just…” Dean choked up. He’d never talked about this with anyone. Ever. Some people knew the story - Pastor Jim and Bobby and a few other hunters. But aside from rare stolen moments with Sammy, he never talked about his Mom or her death in a conversation that wasn’t focused on demons and vengeance. Now stripped of all supernatural elements, the story that remained had a core of truth that he almost never acknowledged. It was simple. Just…loss._

_He felt hot tears spill out from his eyes and he couldn’t make it stop. “I don’t know – “ he was heaving, barely spitting the words out “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t –“_

_And then he was swept up into long thin arms, his head crashing into a bony shoulder, fingers sweeping up and down his back, and a voice saying over and over again, “Nothing is wrong with you, Dean. Nothing is wrong with you.”_

_Somewhere at the edges of his consciousness, Dean thought that he should have felt embarrassed. Weak. But he didn’t. He just felt safe. Safe and loved. They stood there and Dean’s breathing slowed, the tears subsided._

_He wasn’t sure exactly when the energy changed, which one of them initiated it or whether it was something that organically grew out of both of them. But somewhere along the way, Dean became acutely aware of the fingers stroking his bare back, and the tingling feeling that it gave him. He felt his heart pound, and a heat coil around them, between them, felt hot breath against his cheek, and his own breath now coming out in jagged pants. He felt himself harden against Jamie’s body, and was about to pull away when he realized that the pressure against him was Jamie responding in kind. The realization made his dick twitch, and he heard a sharp intake of breath that indicated that Jamie had felt it._

_It was…_

_Words could not describe it. He felt hypnotized. Slowly, he raised his eyes to Jamie’s, and they looked down at him with such adoration, he didn’t even know how to take it all in._

_Still stroking his back with one hand, Jamie tentatively reached out with his other hand and caressed his cheek. His voice was hushed. “Dean.”_

_Dean pulled back slowly. He wasn’t sure why, he didn’t want to, but it was all just overwhelming and he didn’t know what to do. “I – I should go pick up Sammy.” It was true. He was probably late. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there. It could have been a minute or a month, he really would’ve believed anything._

_“Oh, sure. Yeah, tell Sam I said hi.”_

_“Yeah, sure. Will do.”_

_That night in the shower, Dean didn't even try to think about a girl. He began with that day’s unfinished scene, let his body remember the feeling of Jamie’s fingers, the sensation of his breath, and then took it from there. When he was done, he didn’t even feel the usual shame. It was like he could still hear Jamie’s voice whispering, reassuring “Nothing is wrong with you.” And he actually believed it. Because if Jamie was like this too, then maybe he wasn’t as messed up as he’d thought._

_The next day at lunch, they were quiet, but not in an awkward or tense way. There was just – not much need for talking. They let their gazes linger. At one point, Dean reached across the table and laid his hand over Jamie’s and they just sat there._

_When he got out of school, he looked around for Jamie, his heart fluttering in eager anticipation of their walk home and whatever may come afterward._

_Instead, he saw the Impala. And that could only mean one thing._

_His heart sank as he walked toward the car. The sight of his duffel bag in the back seat confirmed his suspicion. John sat in the front, looking a little impatient. He motioned him into the passenger side and started the car up.  “Your stuff is packed. We’re heading to DC.”_

_“Okay. Just wait a sec -  I need to say goodbye to Jamie.”_

_“Do what you gotta do, heartbreaker. But we have to pick up Sammy and hit the road, so don’t take too long.”_

_Heartbreaker? How did he – but then Dean caught sight of Jamie walking out of the school, craning his neck, looking left and right. Looking for him._

_“I’ll be quick, okay? Just lemme do this. He’s right there.” Dean gestured toward Jamie._

_“He? I thought…” John’s voice trailed off as he looked over at Jamie. And then he said, sort of under his breath, but still loud enough for Dean to hear him “Kinda looks like a girl though.”_

_Dean felt his face flush red. “What – What’s that supposed to mean?”_

_His Dad shrugged his shoulders, a vague attempt at a conciliatory gesture. “Nothing. Nah, I’m sure he’s great. Just…you know, just not the kinda guy I’d expect you to hit it off with.”_

_John narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the lithe figure dressed in a light blue polo shirt and khakis, so clearly out of place among the throng of broad-shouldered belt-and-boot-wearing Texan boys._

_“Just seems kinda...sensitive. You know…” he snickered, “I mean, can you imagine him on a hunt?” Then it became a full fledged laugh._

_Pure bile filled Dean’s stomach, clawing its way up his throat. He thought for a minute that he might actually throw up, and he opened the door to the car._

_“Go ahead, say your goodbyes.”_

_He looked at Jamie and then looked at his Dad. He didn’t even want to say goodbye anymore. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as he could. Now he knew for sure. There was no way he could be…there were hunters and then there were people like Jamie. And he was a hunter. That was all._

_Jamie caught his eye, then took in the sight of the Impala and Dean’s long-absent father. His brows furrowed, and Dean rose and got out of the car, heading towards him but determined to make this as quick and impersonal as possible._

_When he reached Jamie, he felt himself start to melt a little. Those gray-blue eyes looking at him, questioning and so trusting, and Dean couldn’t believe that he would never see those eyes again._

_But alongside that feeling came something else, a sudden panic and paranoia, like everyone could see – his classmates, his father – like he was standing there naked and hard and crying and so so exposed and the shame was bigger than anything he’d ever felt._

_Jamie spoke first. “Are you – Is that your Dad? Are you leaving?”_

_He forced out a reply. “Yeah. Uh, looks like this is it. Um….nice knowing you.”_

_“Yeah, um…” Jamie looked at him, lost, “I can’t believe you’re going.” He reached out to hug Dean and Dean pushed him away like his touch was acid._

_“C’mon man,” Dean said as he looked self-consciously around them, “people are gonna think we’re fags.”_

_If Dean thought he couldn’t feel any worse, he was wrong, because seeing Jamie's face crumble - the pure devastation - seeing it and knowing he was the cause of it was the worst kind of pain. He turned his back and headed toward the car, barely breathing, forcing himself to go numb. He never turned back._

_In the car, he silently made several vows, all of them dedicated to things he would never do._

_He would never jack off thinking about a guy again._

_He would never let anyone see him cry again._

_He would never let anyone get close to him again. From here on out, the world would be divided between Hunters and Civilians, between Family and Everyone Else._

_Most of all, he vowed that he would never think about Jamie, ever again._

It was kind of impressive really, Dean’s ability to bury his own thoughts. To re-form unpleasant parts of his past and tell himself stories about his own life that missed or warped countless details. He didn’t forget about Jamie, not really, not wholly, but he hadn’t consciously thought about him in over a decade. It was difficult at first, really truly blisteringly difficult. Sam made it worse, asking him questions and bringing up memories until Dean made it clear that such discussion was off-limits.

But in time, he stowed those memories away, and for years, managed to live up to most of the vows that he made in the car that day.

The story unfolded in his mind as he sat slumped against the wall, and then he was back in the present again. Looking at his own dead face. He knew it wasn’t real but he felt accusation in those green eyes.

He stumbled, dazed, out of the dungeon, not even thinking about where he was going. Not even completely sure of where he was. So he was startled when he saw Sam and Cas standing in the kitchen, suddenly jolted back to reality in full, and not quite prepared for it.

“Dean…what’s wrong? Did something happen with the shifter?” Sam’s voice rose with obvious concern.

He looked around, as if searching for the answer. “The shifter. Yeah, he’s dead.”

“He’s dead? What about the tablets?”

Oh yeah. The tablets. “Uh…he didn’t know anything. And, he…he pissed me off. So I ganked him.”

He didn’t know what he looked like, but he could see in Sam’s face that he must’ve been wrecked. He became aware of the thin sheen of sweat covering his body and wondered absently if he was pale. The phrase _like he’d just seen a ghost_ came to mind, but a ghost never got to him like this. Not the usual kind, anyway.

“You don’t look well. Dean, are you certain that you are okay?” This time it was Cas’s voice and – shit, Cas. He felt Cas’s hand on his shoulder, a simple gesture of comfort, and he felt himself push the hand away. But it didn’t feel like him. He wasn’t sure where his body was anymore. Maybe it was still in the dungeon, dead.

Flinching at the touch. That wasn’t good. He wasn’t supposed to do that. He knew that. He felt Cas’s eyes on him and he remembered – this is the part where he’d look back, apologize with his eyes, let him know that everything was okay between  them. But he couldn’t. It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t going to be.

He raised his eyes just long enough to catch Cas’s expectant gaze, but broke away before he could see the look on his face. Because he knew that he wasn’t going to do anything but hurt him, and he didn’t want to see the damage. He couldn’t.

“I need to go.” He headed off to his bedroom, leaving as abruptly as he entered.

After a few hours of motionless sitting and staring, the past and present fully caught up to him and he realized what he’d done. This was it. For all his failings, there was one thing that Dean had promised to do, that he’d been living up to until today, and now that was over too. He’d disappointed Cas like he always disappointed everyone, and he felt like a fool for ever thinking there could be any other outcome.

That night he had a dream that he and Cas were kissing in a warehouse. Everything was sweet, light, buzzing, and then Dean felt a sharp pain in his chest. He felt Cas go slack against him, lips falling off, and opened his eyes to see Cas lifeless in front of him - eyes empty, blood dripping from his mouth. He wanted to scream but couldn't, and he realized that whatever had stabbed him had gone _through_ Cas. He felt the blade slide out of his heart, saw Cas’s body drop to the ground as it was fully withdrawn, revealing the bloody angel blade on the other side. Gripping the hilt was Dean, another Dean, looking impassively at what he’d done.

The next few days were a slow and vacant blur. Cas showed up a couple of times, only when others were present, and only to talk shop. There were things happening, potential tablet leads alongside regular business, some suspicious disappearances in Iowa that he and Sam decided to investigate. When he and Cas were in the same room, they pointedly looked away from each other, only addressing Sam or Kevin, and Dean knew it must’ve seemed absurd, but he couldn’t look at Cas. And clearly Cas had no desire to look at him.

Other than that, everything was pretty much normal. Just…colorless. The time that Dean spent with Cas when he was in Jackie’s body, even the weeks after when they’d shared their affectionate stares, all of it just seemed like a dream. A vivid and colorful dream. And now Dean was back in reality. Bitter, grey, bleak and dreary reality.

It was familiar, at least.

He and Sam took to the road and headed to Iowa. Dean was relieved to have something to do. He blasted music the whole way, letting it be known that he was not in the mood for any kind of talk, and Sam mostly obliged. He tried to turn the volume down once, clearly intent on starting a conversation, but Dean just turned it up even louder, and Sam got the hint.

Seven hours of noisy silence later, they pulled into the parking lot of a Motel 6. As they got out of the car, Sam apparently decided he couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’re a jackass.”

“You’re in love with Cas.”

“You’re –“ wait, what? “What, you’re saying I’m gay now?”

“I didn't say you were gay. I said you’re in love with Castiel.”

Dean waited for a biting comeback to manifest, but it didn’t. They just stood there, the driver’s side door still open as Dean momentarily lost his ability to comprehend the universe.

“Also, you’re kinda gay.”

Now Dean could talk again, though what he really wanted to do was throw Sam across the floor. He slammed the car door shut and walked toward the motel, letting his reply trail him. It wasn’t his most clever retort, but it got the point across.

“Fuck you, Sammy.”

“Dean.” Sam’s voice softened, and he laid his hand on Dean’s arm. Dean tried to shrug it off, but Sam was a giant beast and he turned him around so they were facing each other.

“I’m not insulting you, Dean. I’m just…I’ve known you my entire life. How could I not know?”

He felt dizzy. Torn between wanting to hear what Sam had to say and wanting to tape his mouth shut and never ever ever have this discussion. He still wasn’t sure what he wanted more when he plopped down on a concrete block that laid haphazardly outside the motel. Sam, for better or worse, took that as an invitation to talk, seating himself down on a similar block a couple of feet away.

“Look, Dean, we grew up in…close quarters. To put it lightly. I mean, most of the time it was you, me, and Dad in a single motel room with a double bed and bathrooms with thin walls. I know what your ‘showers’ mean. And even though I didn’t totally understand what was going on at the time, I remember how often you felt the need to shower when you were younger.”

Dean felt himself redden, but wouldn’t let his brother continue unchallenged. “Yeah, so I jerked off a lot when I was younger. And I still do sometimes. Breaking fuckin’ news. If that makes me gay then I guess every teenage boy in America is too.”

Sam sighed, seemingly searching for a polite way to say whatever it was he wanted to say. “Yeah, but I noticed a pattern. Like, a lot of times you’d need to take a shower right after we watched a movie that came on TV.”

“Yeah?” Dean sort of knew where he was heading with this, but he wasn’t going to feed Sam’s suspicions.

“Like…Tango & Cash?”

“Kiki Tango! C’mon, Teri Hatcher stripping? Who didn’t need some private shower time after seeing that?”

“Okay, that was an easy one. Risky Business?”

“Lana. Rebecca De Mornay. Seriously, that’s all you got?”

“Tequila Sunrise”

“Jo Ann. Michelle Pfeiffer. Next.”

“Batman.”

“Vicki Vale. And if you say Batman Returns, you know it’s Catwoman. Only thing better than Michelle Pfeiffer was Michelle Pfeiffer in latex. Next.” 

“Bull Durham.”

“Annie Savoy. Next.”

“Die Hard.”

John McClane.

Shit.

Sam just kept going. “Rocky. Any of the Rocky movies, actually. And if you say Adrian, you know I’m gonna call bullshit, because she was not that hot and she wasn’t the one that was half naked and oiled up.”

“Okay, enough.” He glared at Sam, wishing that he could erase the last few minutes of their lives through sheer will. “Look I don’t know what you think you’re proving, but there is no freakin’ way you remember every time I jacked off after a movie in the mid-90’s And if you do, I think I should be a little worried about you.”

“Dean…Dean, I’m not trying to call you out, or shame you or something. I’m not trying to prove a point here, I’m just…”

“What are you trying to do, then, Sammy? Huh?”

“I’m just…I just want you to know that it’s okay. I know, and it’s okay. And I remember. Not just the movies. I remember.”

“You remember what?”

“I remember Jamie.”

Dean’s heart dropped for what seemed like the 100th time that week.

“I remember the way you looked when you were with him. You were so happy. I don’t know what happened with you guys. I mean, I know we moved away, but then you wouldn’t even talk about him. It was like he never existed. And you got…meaner. And sadder.”

Damn Sammy and his fucking perceptiveness. It was like his freaky psychic powers were back.  How else would he know to say that name after all these years?

“Yeah, well you know what Dad thought about Jamie?”

“Screw Dad. Who cares what Dad thought?”  
  
“I care! And don't you fucking talk about –“

“Okay, Dean, slow down. I’m not – I don’t mean screw Dad in general. I mean, we fought a lot, but I know the good he did. And you even know I’ve come around on some of the stuff that I used to fight him about. I get it. I know what he was up against and he did the best he could.”

“That’s right.”

“But he was human Dean. And he was wrong about some stuff, too. You know that. He was wrong about this. Whatever he said about Jamie, whatever he thought about…whatever…I mean, he was a man and he was a product of his time and his culture, and they got a lot of things wrong. Whatever he may have said or thought about this matter, about…sexual orientation – “

Dean visibly cringed at the term.

“-  whatever, that wasn’t him. It wasn’t Dad, not really. It was layers of bullshit that he learned from other people, and he was human and flawed and he fell for it. But you don’t have to Dean. We don’t have to. We know better. Are you gonna honestly tell me that you judge people who are gay?”

“No.” His response was quick, though he realized the hypocrisy in it.

“Do you honestly think that it makes a difference whether a person wants to sleep with women or men, or…both?”

Dean cringed again, but he knew that there was only one right answer to this. “No.”

“And do you think that someone’s more or less of a hunter, or more or less strong, or more or less good, because of who they love?”

It was an impossible argument. Dean knew logic wasn’t on his side, but that didn't mean he could just…

“I know, Sammy. I know. It’s just…I….I can’t…” What was he saying? What couldn’t he do? He didn’t even have words to defend himself anymore, and he wasn’t sure what he was defending himself against.  

“Dean, you are the bravest person I have ever known. I mean, I don’t even want to admit it because I know you’re probably going to find a way to throw it back in my face later, but it’s true. Honestly, I’d put my money on you being one of the bravest people who ever lived. You have faced every kind of monster, you’ve faced Hell, the devil…you sought out freakin’ Death himself. And you’re telling me that you’re scared to admit…what, that you’re bisexual? Seriously? Do you know how ridiculous that even sounds?”

It did sound ridiculous. It sounded like the dumbest thing Dean had ever heard.

He started laughing, and he kept laughing until his stomach hurt and there were tears in his eyes. Sam laughed along for a little while, but then just sort of eyed him, probably worried that he was having some kind of mental breakdown.

But it was the opposite. He finally stopped laughing, still letting out little gasping chuckles, and patted his brother on the back.

“You know Sammy, and don’t you throw this back in _my_ face later, but you are actually pretty good at this chick-flick therapy shit. You’ve got a…a way with words.”

Sam smiled, with what was probably a mixture of gratitude for the kind words and relief that he wouldn’t have to send his brother to the looney bin. “Thanks, Dean.”

“Thank you, Sammy.” They sat for a moment just looking at each other, feeling peace and lightness that was a long time coming.

As usual, Sam broke the silence.

“So does this mean that you’re finally gonna admit it?”

“Admit it?”

“Yeah, admit –“ now it was Sam’s turn to start laughing uncontrollably “ – that you’re in gay love – “ he squeezed his eyes shut, tears already forming, “ - with an angel.”

“You fucker –“

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Dean,” he was wheezing, swaying to the side, looking like he was about to topple off the concrete block. “It’s just…” he wiped his eyes, “oh you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to say that.”

“Jesus, Sammy. What happened to being supportive?”

“I am, Dean, oh come on, Dean, you know I am.” Dean got up and turned away, walking toward the motel. Sam was right behind him.

“Dean, don’t be like that. It’s just, you gotta admit, if the tables were turned, there’s no way you’d let me off that easy.”

Sam was right, but Dean couldn’t let him get too smug. “Well, all I know is you better get your own room tonight.”

“What? Why? Dean, don’t be mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” and he wasn’t, not really. He was elated, actually. And he was grateful to Sammy, truly. But he still had to put him in his place.

“Then why do you want me to get another room?”

“Because,” and he spun around and faced Sam squarely, “tonight I’m going to have gay sex with my gay angel.”

Sam sputtered and froze. He tried to recover quickly, but stumbled over his words. Dean relished the victory.

“Well…I mean, good for you. I’m glad you’re…wow, you really turned around pretty quick on this. But yeah. More, uh, more power to you.”

“You should probably be at least a few rooms away. I have a feeling it’s gonna get loud.”

“Okay, Dean, I’m happy for you and all, but you can spare me the details.”

“Do you think Cas is a screamer? I bet he is.” He couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, but it was just too fun watching Sam’s reactions.

“Dean, ugh. Come on.”

“What, Sammy? It’s a beautiful, natural thing. Though it’ll probably get a little dirty.”

“Dean!”

“I should buy lube!”

“Ahhhhhh….” Sam shut his eyes and covered his ears.

“Watch out Sammy, you’ve created a monster!”

“I can’t hear you.”

“A monster cock!”

 “I fucking hate you.”

 That was more like it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The very end of this chapter is an homage to one of the people that inspired me to write fanfiction. :) 
> 
> All Chapter titles are from songs from bands that Dean listened to, according to the Pilot episode - Metallica (Chapter 1 & the overall story), Motorhead (Chapters 2 & 4), Black Sabbath (Chapters 3 & 5)


	5. After Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised - Love, Happiness, & Porn (with a little bit of goofiness because I can't help myself).

After a long nap, Dean did end up buying lube, even though he’d only originally mentioned it to get a rise out of Sam. He sat at the edge of his motel bed considering it, for the first time really registering the fact that he was about to…what was he about to do?

Well, for one thing, he was gonna tell Cas that he loved him. Still. And apologize for being an asshole. And if that went well, there would be, as he’d told Sam, gay sex with his gay angel.

Except he didn’t actually know anything about gay sex.

Sure, he knew the basics. And he’d certainly spent enough time thinking about it in his youth. But he’d then spent so much time pushing away those kinds of thoughts in his adulthood that he probably knew less about gay sex than the average 20-year-old straight woman.

Sex was sex, though, right? Could it really be that difficult to figure out? And Cas had never had sex with anyone, so it’s not like he had any basis for comparison.

His skin flushed red as he realized that, as far as men were concerned, he was pretty much as virginal as Cas. It was kinda sweet, actually. They’d lose their virginities to each other. The thought was just so utterly foreign, though, like he was thinking about taking Cas to prom or something. Although he’d joked when he returned from hell that he’d been re-hymenated and needed to lose it again, in truth his virginity was not something he thought he’d ever really have to consider.

Enough of that. He wasn’t really a virgin. There was just…a domain of experience that he didn’t possess. And he and Cas would figure it out. Hell, Cas had probably seen his fair share of man-on-man sex, watching humans all these years, in addition to whatever porn also happened to come his way along with the pizza man.

But that wouldn’t do. He couldn’t be more clueless about this than his virginal angel. This was ridiculous. He just had to watch some gay porn.

No biggie. Well, no biggie except that this was an activity that he’d actively avoided for pretty much his entire adult life. He opened his laptop and sat on the bed, going to a popular free site that showed short video clips. He knew they had a “gay” category, though in the past he’d deliberately glaze his eyes over it when visiting the site and go straight for the anime or girl-on-girl sections, lest he accidentally glimpse some dick. But now he went straight for it.

Dean felt ridiculous as he looked to both sides, as if he were a teenager about to get caught doing something naughty. He sucked in a breath and plunged forward, attempting to keep all sense of embarrassment at bay and view this as a learning experience.

The first clip he watched was…jarring. It was a compilation, so basically 6 minutes of non-stop cum shots and ass reaming. Well, he supposed it was educational. But not really what he was looking for.

He didn’t know what he was looking for, but wanted something that could sort of resemble what he and Cas might do that night. Which was not this. He looked around for a little while, starting and quickly stopping several clips that did not fit the bill. Three large hairy men surrounding a twink in a blindfold? Nope. A guy getting hogtied with a ball gag in his mouth? Interesting, but not really the first night kinda stuff. Two cocks fighting for dominance in one guy’s mouth while he gagged? Shit, this stuff was a little…much. He just needed, like, a beginner’s course.  

Finally, he settled on a 20-minute video featuring two guys who weren’t exactly clones of him and Cas, but bore some resemblance. If he squinted enough, he could pretend it was the two of them. He had skipped forward a bit to check it out and it seemed pretty straightforward.

He started again from the top and sat through the first two minutes of pointless dialogue and setup. An older man, who happened to be wearing a business suit and a blue tie, picked up a blonde, who looked a bit like Dean in his younger days. They got down to business pretty quickly, the older guy sitting in a chair and ordering the blonde to strip. He was kind of dominant, and Dean thought back to that night in the bunker, the way that Cas had so quickly shifted from making shy requests to giving orders.

A shiver ran down his body at the memory, and then he focused on the video again and saw that the older guy had wordlessly guided the younger guy to kneel before him. He was fully naked, kneeling on the ground in between the legs of the older man, who was only beginning to undress. He unzipped his pants and removed a monstrously large cock, and the camera zoomed until all that was visible was an askew view of the blonde guy slowly sucking that cock in, while the older man’s fingers moved quickly to begin removing his shirt from the bottom up. The blue tie still hung down over his dress shirt, and Dean thought it was probably the sight of the tie more than anything that turned this from an instructional session to a more participatory activity.

He hadn’t really intended to get off while watching this, but in hindsight, it was probably inevitable. He was watching men have sex for the first time in his life, while actively trying to imagine that the two men on the screen were him and Cas. That he was kneeling in front of Cas and his blue tie and wrapping his mouth around his throbbing–

Yeah, this was completely inevitable.

It wasn’t a terrible idea anyway. Dean had always taken some pride in his stamina, and the way he was feeling, with all the built up tension, he wouldn’t be surprised if he came in his pants the first time Cas touched him. That was the last thing he needed. The whole point of this exercise was to not feel like a freakin’ virginal teenager, so cleaning the pipes beforehand and giving himself a little extra staying power was probably the right way to go.

He unzipped his pants, and then decided to follow his on-screen counterpart’s lead and get fully naked. Once again he found himself furtively looking around the room, as if he was afraid of getting caught. It was absurd, he knew, but whatever, a lifetime in the closet comes with some baggage. He leaned back, half watching the screen, half tuned into his own internal images and memories.

It wasn’t difficult to bring to mind some of the greatest hits of his past, but this time he was trying to remember his most mind-blowing blow jobs while imagining what it would be like to give them. And that was completely different. Hollowing out his cheeks, flicking his tongue…his mouth was actually watering at the thought of it. Yeah, he could do this.

He had some techniques he’d like to try out, but it really wasn’t a matter of technique. Head was always the hottest when the person giving it was really into it, and he could be really into it. And making someone come was all about being attentive and responsive to the way their bodies reacted, giving them more of what felt good to them, because everyone’s a little bit different.

There was no doubt he could give complete attention to Cas’s body. He’d kinda been waiting years to do that. He couldn’t think of anything better than taking his time to learn Cas’s body, find out the ways that it would react. He idly wondered if Cas would have any particular quirks that resulted from him being an angel in a human vessel. They definitely didn’t have instructional porn for that. He’d have to feel his way through, and that was not a problem.

His confidence boost was briefly interrupted when things took a turn on the screen. The older man, still wearing the blue tie, bent the blonde over a table and began sliding lube-slicked fingers into his ass.

Okay, this was really one area where he did need some educational support. He’d probably had less experience with anal sex than the average guy his age, if only because most girls aren’t too keen to do that on the first night, and he rarely stuck around for the second. His gay panic didn’t help matters either, so even when it was an option, he more often than not opted out.

He knew enough to know that lube and prep were essential, but that was about it from the giving end. He was abstractly aware that a guy’s prostate was like a male g-spot, but he really had no experience with that on either side. A couple of girls over the years had stuck a finger in while going down on him. There was one time he distinctly remembered where he felt the beginning of something really good, but he didn’t know if he could replicate that for someone else. Hell, he didn’t even know if Cas wanted him to do that. If their on-screen doppelgangers were any indication, it seemed most likely that Cas would want to top.

Dean swallowed hard as he considered the possibility. Sure, he was open to trying anything with Cas, but up until this point, he’d assumed that he would mostly be taking the same role he usually did. He squirted a bit of lube onto his hand and experimentally guided a finger to his hole, while maintaining a steady rhythm with his cock. It wasn’t too difficult to get one in, though there was a slight burn. He tried crooking his finger – he was pretty sure that was what you were supposed to do to find the right spot, but didn’t really hit anything.

It probably didn’t help that his finger was barely more than halfway in. He started moving it up a little further, and then stopped. Yeah, this was not going to happen. Not tonight. He could barely get a finger in, nevermind a whole...yikes.

He removed his finger but kept pace with his other hand, then picked up speed when he returned his attention to the screen. The man in the blue tie was just pounding into the young blonde, and he must have been hitting the right spot or the other guy was a really great actor, because he was writhing and moaning like he just couldn’t get enough of it. Dean temporarily put his brain on hold and let himself get taken in by the images and sounds, then closed his eyes and imagined blue ones as he came into his hand. He took a deep breath and leaned back.

That was…well, milestone achieved. First time getting off to gay porn. And possibly the first of many firsts that would occur that day.

Maybe he was blowing it all out of proportion. Now spent and naked, he felt a little foolish. Why should he expect that they were going to be doing all this tonight? He was getting a little ahead of himself here.

Sure, things had gotten hot and heavy with Cas pretty fast – there was a ridiculous physical connection, no doubt about that – but they’d never really done anything more than kiss. It felt like they had, and they’d certainly skirted the lines, but kissing Cas really was pretty amazing in itself. He didn’t really know if he was ready for more with this version of Cas, though he was certainly turned on by the idea. And for all he knew, Cas wasn't ready for anything more either. 

So they were virgins. Maybe he should just accept that. They could make out and do some heavy petting and take their time. He smiled softly at the idea.

Really, as much as he loved the idea of getting to know Cas’s body, what he was looking forward to the most was being able to look at Cas again, after these hellish days of downward glances and indirect conversations. To be able to acknowledge their connection, finally, with no hesitation and no reservations.

Before that, though, he should probably wash the lube out of his ass, along with the rest of the mess he’d made. He went to the shower and cleaned himself thoroughly, daydreaming about what he’d say.

Instead of porn, he probably should have been watching romantic comedies, seeing as how he was almost as inexperienced with emotional intimacy as he was with man-on-man action. But he had been intimate and open with Cas, more open than he’d ever been with anyone. Cas had to know that he loved him.

Or rather, he knew that Dean had loved him at one point. He didn’t know that he still loved him. He didn’t know that his love was constant, regardless of his idiotic actions and limitations, and Dean needed to find a way to convey that. He searched for the words, but nothing seemed adequate.

When he finally landed on an idea, he rushed out of the shower so fast he nearly slipped. He stopped and quickly toweled himself off, not wanting to get the journal wet, then went to his duffel bag and took out his Dad’s book. He flipped through to the end and pulled a small folded piece of paper from underneath the lining. This was perfect. He looked at the clock, and made mental calculations. He had enough time if he left right away and could find a place quickly. Then he looked down at himself and realized that he’d probably have to put clothes on for this.

A little under two hours later, he was back in the motel room and ready. He took a deep breath and began to pray.

“Cas, you got your ears on? It’s me.” He paused and waited. “Look, I know I messed up, and I’m sorry. I just...we gotta talk.”

Dean felt a knot form in his stomach, as he considered for the first time the possibility that Cas may not answer him. May not want anything to do with him. He sunk down until he was sitting on the bed, and wanted to curl up into a ball. But he couldn’t give up this easily.

“Cas, c’mon man, I know…look, we’ve been through a lot together. A whole helluva lot, and I mean that literally. And we can get through this. I need you down here. C’mon Cas. I need you.”

After another moment of silence the shock began to fully settle in.  Cas really wasn’t coming.

And then Cas was there. Dean let out a sigh of relief, feeling so very very thankful that he didn’t have to sit with that horrible feeling for any longer. Though looking at Cas, he realized that this was going to take a little while. He hoped that his idea had the intended effect.

Cas looked around the room, probably expecting to see Sam, and then, heartbreakingly, cast his eyes downward to avoid looking at Dean while speaking. “You require my assistance,” he stated flatly.

“No, I don’t require your assistance,” Dean said, and then quickly followed, “but don’t leave. Please.”

Dean tried to make eye contact, but it was to no avail. Cas was expressionless, and Dean knew that he had to say something. “I didn’t say that I require your assistance. I said that I need you. I need you, Cas.”

Cas twitched slightly, but was otherwise stolid as he flatly responded. “I don’t understand.”

“Yes you do. Cas, look at me.” Dean tentatively reached over, putting one hand on Cas’s arm and looking straight at him, until he slowly lifted his eyes up. Dean had expected to see the same steely expression that Cas had flashed at him in the bunker that night, but instead all he saw was pain. It tore at him.

“Cas, I’m sorry. I am so sorry for hurting you, and for going back on my promise. I never stopped caring about you, I just…I dunno how to describe it. I psyched myself out. I let things get to me - shapeshifter’s comments, old wounds. I shouldn’t have, but I did, and now I’m over it.” 

Cas continued to look at him steadily, and nodded assent, though his eyes remained anguished. “I understand, Dean. You are human, and therefore liable to vacillating emotional responses.”

“Yes…okay, that’s true. But…that’s not what I’m trying to say. I’m not gonna…vacillate or whatever. I had some stuff to get over, and, alright I’m not gonna say I’m completely over it, but I’m getting there. I’m coming out the other side, and I’m not gonna let it hold me back anymore. I’m…” He felt like words were failing him, so he began unbuttoning his shirt.

Cas took a deep breath and then looked away. “Dean. I understand that you wish to make amends. You do not need to undress in order to do so.”

“I’m not – “ Dean took off his button-up shirt, but stopped before taking off the long sleeve Henley he had on underneath. “I’m not undressing. I mean, not like that. Would you look at me? I want to show you something.”

He wanted so much for Cas to understand. “I know that I went back and forth, and I probably spun your head there. I don’t blame you for being skittish around me. I’ve been…inconsistent.”

Cas looked at him then, the gaze softened somewhat, but the pain still there. “Yes. Inconsistent. That is an accurate description.”

“I know. Believe me. I’ve been on the merry go round with this myself, but I’m getting off now. I want you to know that I mean it this time. I’m all in. And I’m not going anywhere. And –“ He felt butterflies in his stomach as he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled up. He tossed it aside and turned his shoulder toward Cas, who was tilting his head in confusion, then peeled away the plastic that was taped on.

“It’s still healing, and I know it’s just…I don’t know if you think it’s stupid or what, but it’s just, it’s a symbol. It’s on me now. It’s not going anywhere. And neither am I. I just –“

Cas’s eyes widened and he lifted his hand, brushing his fingers lightly on the fresh tattoo. “Careful, that’s –“ and before Dean could finish the sentence, the scabbing was gone and it was there, neat and perfect. And not even itching, which was an added bonus.

“I mean, I guess you could get rid of it if you want to, but I can’t. Not easily anyway. But you didn’t get rid of it, so I’m guessing…I hope…do you like it?”

Cas looked mesmerized. “How did you…?” He looked up, eyes warmed, and said, in his charmingly clueless way, “I was not aware that you were even studying Enochian.”

Dean had to laugh at that. He was relieved too, because, though he wasn’t completely sure, it seemed like Cas got it. Or at least, that he liked it. He pulled out the folded up piece of paper and showed it to Cas.

“I’m not studying…anything. I just, I overheard you talking to Kevin one day, and he was asking you about Enochian, and you wrote out your name for him. And then you both just left the piece of paper there, so I took it. I mean, it is your name, right? It’s not like, Enochian for ‘I’m a dumb human’ or something? Because that would suck.”

Cas smiled, and Dean’s heart soared, even if it was a smile that was somewhat at his expense. “Yes, it is my name. I just…you really kept it?” He smiled even bigger, and it wasn’t a mocking smile, but Dean felt embarrassed anyway. 

“Yeah, well, it’s your name. You never know when it’s gonna come in handy. Birthday card. Summoning spell. Permanent body mark.”

“Dean Winchester. You are a romantic.”

He blushed and looked down. “I don’t know about that.” But this wasn’t the time to get defensive. He wanted to lay it all out, and yeah, that was pretty much exactly what this was. He looked up and smiled back. “Maybe. For you.”

Cas, whose fingers were still lightly tracing the script of his name on Dean’s body, now covered it completely, pressing his hand fully on his shoulder, forming the same outline that Dean had seen raised and puffy on his skin so many times. Telling him, without words, that he understood that this was part of it too. The placement was purposeful. Marked for life in the place where Cas had first touched him.

Slowly, Cas’s hand began to glide up and down Dean’s arm. He stepped closer and his other hand joined in, the two taking slightly asymmetrical pathways over the right and left side of Dean’s body, touching arms, chest, collarbone, sides, back, and Dean felt warmth spread from within him. It was reverent and appreciative, but at the same time possessive, and Dean stood still as Cas’s hands laid claim, silently agreeing; _Yes, I am yours_.

Cas was mere inches away now, with both hands wrapped around him, one lightly caressing his bare back while the other raked fingers through his hair. Dean could feel Cas’s breath, the warmth of his body pressed against him, and the warmth of his own body curling into heat as they got closer. He reached under the trench coat and suit jacket, sliding his arms around Cas’s waist.

When they finally kissed, he wasn’t sure if one of them had actually initiated it, or if their bodies had acted in concert of their own accord, unable to handle the proximity without complete and total absorption into one another.

Just as it had the first time, the world faded to black as their lips met.

The only things that still existed were lips and tongues and breath and bodies and fingers and heat. It was familiar and yet totally new, the electricity still the same but the sensations different. For the first time, Dean felt stubble against his cheek, and after years of barely repressed fantasies, he finally felt those large soft lips. He ran his tongue against the ridges of those lips, drinking in their unique texture, while running his hands up Cas’s back and loosening the dress shirt so he could reach in and feel his skin. Such soft skin over hard muscle, and Dean could spend all day just rubbing his hands along this skin, though he wanted more.

“Can you lose that fuckin’ coat already?” Dean practically growled, and Cas laughed as he pulled back.

“I thought you liked the coat. I mean, you kept it for me all that time. You were a romantic even then.”

Dean shook his head, smiling but also seriously on a mission to get rid of all that damn clothing between them. “I do like the coat, because it’s you, but I would rather just have you now. No coat, no suit, no tie, just you.”

“Well, that can be arranged,” Cas said slyly, and for a second Dean thought that he was going to just magic himself – or maybe both of them – into nudity. Instead he just slowly peeled off the jacket and began loosening his tie.

“Tease.”

Cas smirked – yes, that was a smirk. He probably learned it from Dean. As they say, karma’s a bitch. He stood and watched Cas take off his tie and jacket, then helped him along unbuttoning his shirt, and groaned when he saw an undershirt underneath. Yet another fuckin’ layer. He went for Cas’s belt while Cas removed that last item from his upper body and threw it on a pile of clothes that was forming on the floor beside them. Dean slid the belt off and threw it on top of the pile, then nearly shouted in triumph as he ran his hands over Cas’s bare torso, finally feeling and seeing it. God, he was beautiful.

He hooked his hands into the newly belt-free waist of Cas’s pants and pulled him closer, wanting to feel skin against skin. Their bodies made the slightest bit of contact, but were held in place by Cas’s hand, which was now cupping the side of Deans face, his thumb brushing along Dean’s lips. Hungry for touch and operating on instinct, Dean opened his mouth, licking the pad of his thumb and then gently sucking on it, eliciting a moan from Cas that slightly startled them both.

There was nothing but heat between them now, and Cas moved closer so their bodies pressed together perfectly. Dean closed his eyes and sucked harder, reveling in the taste of Cas’s skin and the feeling of Cas stiffening against him. Somewhere in the corner of his mind, he realized how silly it was that he ever thought of it as an insult – DSL. Yes, this was exactly what his mouth was made for, and wasn’t that fuckin’ fantastic.

He opened his eyes and looked into Cas’s blue ones, slightly eclipsed by lust-blown pupils, then let the thumb drop from his mouth and launched into Cas’s throat. They both fully growled now, and in a movement so sudden it must have been angel-powered, Cas backed him against the wall of the motel room, slamming him hard but cushioning the back of his head with his hand.

Dean’s mind flashed toward past memories – that day in the green room, that time with Meg – and he let out a small chuckle.

Cas looked straight up angry, or maybe it was just passion amped up to scary levels. He got in Dean’s face and set his voice at its lowest register. “Something funny?”

It was glorious to see Cas like this, wild with lust and with that ferocious power. He was actually kind of intimidated, but it just made his blood run hotter and his cock even harder.

“No, it’s just – Your move.” Dean was panting. “Up against the wall.”

“My move?”

“Yeah, it’s your move.” He nipped at Cas’s lips, showing he meant no offense, then rolled his hips, grinding their cocks together to drive the message home. “I like it. Trust me, it’s – it’s a good move.”

And then his head slammed against the wall again. There was no cushioning this time, but he didn’t need it. Cas forcibly shoved his tongue into Dean’s mouth, grabbing his ass and – oh shit, lifting them up off the ground. Dean let out a slightly startled gasp, then wrapped his legs around Cas’s waist and just went with it.

Well, he knew angel sex might be different, but hadn’t really counted on any of it happening mid-air.

They drifted back down toward the floor, but Dean kept his legs wrapped around Cas’s waist, his back pressed against the wall, as Cas rutted against him. He felt Cas’s hard cock against his, was barely aware of anything else actually, but cursed the fabric keeping them apart.

This time, Cas read his mind, and didn’t bother with the slow strip tease. Dean had just barely started to run his fingers along Cas’s waistband when he instantly became aware of the notable absence of fabric between them. He cried out at the sudden and overwhelming contact, and both of them stilled for a moment, just savoring the feeling.

They began moving against each other again, but he still wanted more.

“Cas, I want you.”

“I want you, Dean. God, I want you.”

“Yeah, what do you want, Cas? Anything, I’ll give you anything.”

At that, he just moaned.

“There’s something you want, huh?” Dean leaned back fully against the wall and took Cas’s face in his hands, looking him straight in the eyes. “I’m yours, you know that. Anything you want.”

Cas closed his eyes for a moment, looking as if he could barely stand up straight. Though in truth, he was still solid and strong as ever, easily holding the majority of Dean’s weight and keeping him practically suspended in mid-air against the wall. He opened his eyes again and looked at Dean with burning intensity. “I want to watch you again.” 

Well, that wasn’t really what he was expecting, but okay. Though Dean hoped there would be some touching along with the watching this time. God, he couldn’t bear it if there wasn’t touching.

But Cas wasn’t actually finished. He continued, “I want to watch you touch yourself, while I fuck you.”

The strangled sound that came out of Dean was equal parts arousal and alarm. His body was also of two minds about how to interpret that request. His cock twitched and leaked and his heart raced at the ferocity in Cas’s voice, the surprise at hearing him use words like that. Meanwhile, his ass clenched up, as if to signal to the world that it would not be accepting any visitors today, or any day for that matter.

He wanted more than anything to give Cas exactly what he wanted, and he was so turned on by the idea, by the fact that Cas wanted to watch him and fuck him, fuck, he could come right now just from the image. At the same time, he remembered his earlier experiments with a single digit and looked down at Cas’s not-inconsequentially-sized member and thought _How in the hell is that gonna fit?_

They were perfectly still now, and had been silent, save Dean’s embarrassing yelp, for a minute or two. Cas patiently waited for his response, following Dean’s gaze to their dicks, pressed up against each other. “You may rescind your offer to do anything. I will not force you.”

“No…I…I mean, I want to. I do. I just – I’m a little nervous. I – I can do this. But…” he couldn’t believe he was gonna say this, but he just had to, “um, be gentle?”

Now it was Cas’s turn to laugh. He held Dean tightly in both hands, one hand on his ass and the other on his back, and moved him away from the wall, actually twirling him in the air in a 360 turn before plopping him onto the bed. He crawled up on the bed, straddling Dean’s legs, and damn, that was a sight. Cas fully naked, erect and glistening, absolutely fucking gorgeous.

Though he could do without that smug grin. It kinda made him want to punch him in the face. He could feel teasing coming on, and he cursed karma again, and cursed him and Sam for somewhere along the lines making Cas into one of them. When did that happen?

Cas leaned down and kissed his nose playfully before popping back up again. “Dean, you, the warrior, the demon hunter,” and here it fuckin’ was, “are afraid?” And he actually looked down at his own dick like it was some ferocious monster that Dean was running away from.

That was it.

He was not afraid of pain. His body had been beaten and stabbed, hell, it’d been torn apart, and that’s not even mentioning the stuff his soul was subjected to in Hell. He could handle this. He pushed Cas off of him, and Cas was either taken by surprise or willing to go along with it, because he fell to the side easily.

He grabbed the lube from the nightstand and tossed it to Cas, then began re-arranging himself on the bed.

“Dean, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He was on his hands and knees, now, facing the foot of the bed, with Cas behind him. “We’re doing this.”

Cas laughed, and Dean was about to call him out for it when he noticed the state of the room. The wall he’d just been up against was cracked from the ceiling down. The lamp in the room had blown out, while the light in the bathroom – which he was sure wasn’t on before – was glowing brightly, possibly a little too brightly. That light was reflected in countless shards of glass that littered the floor.

He bounced to attention, upright on his knees. “Cas…when did the TV explode?”

“Oh yes, that.” Cas said lazily, and there was a tiny burst of light and everything was back in place as if it’d never been disturbed. “I should probably fortify the room as well,” Cas said, creeping behind him, and then there was another tiny burst of light, though Dean didn’t see any difference.

Cas was right behind him now, wrapping one arm around him and lightly brushing his fingers across Dean’s abdomen. His voice went even lower as he said, “You have a dangerous effect on me.”

He was still holding the lube in his other hand, and he let it drop to Dean’s side.

Dean was a little less sure now, but he blustered on. “Okay, back to business.” His bravado was then completely undermined by his awareness of Cas’s body, which was now pressed against his back. He could feel Cas’s hard cock against him, a bit of moisture where fluid leaked from the tip onto his skin.

“Dean,” Cas said, low and quiet, practically whispering in his ear. “This is not something I will have you suffer through.” His lips caressed Dean’s neck, and he felt his body begin to relax against the man behind him, his mind turning to jelly along with it.

Cas nibbled the side of his neck before continuing. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He followed the nibble with a deliberate bite. “Not in a bad way at least.”

Dean could feel hot breath against the back of his right ear, and he involuntarily curled his body to the side. That feeling, right on that spot, had always driven him insane in the best way, though he didn’t know how Cas knew that.

“You can trust me, Dean. I know your body. Every millimeter. Every curve and angle. Inside and out. I built your body back up from nothing when you were bones in a box, and I’ve woven your flesh together so many times since them. I would never want to harm this body. It is a masterpiece.”

As he spoke, hypnotizing Dean with his words, he complemented them with expertly placed touches on all of his most sensitive spots, the ones he knew about and ones he’d never even realized existed. He purposefully avoided Dean’s cock, only once grazing it lightly with a single finger and leaving him thrusting into air and aching for more. Dean arched his back and reached his hands behind to touch him, leaning his head back onto Cas’s shoulder and setting his fingers into his tousled hair.

“I adore your body, Dean,” he continued, still touching and teasing, “and I want to feel it in every possible way. I want to feel you clenching around me,” and now his breath caught as he doubtless imagined the sensation. “But I want you hard and ready when that happens. More than ready. I won’t do it until you’re begging for it.”

Dean let out a low howl. “Jesus, Cas. Whoever taught you to talk like that…” Shit, he was gonna send them a fruit basket.

He moved his ass against the length behind him, and Cas’s light touches transformed into a grip against his hips. Then he lifted one hand from Dean’s body and brought it back to himself.

Cas took his cock in one hand, still holding onto Dean with another, and rubbed it slowly against the crack of his ass. “Eager. But you’re not even close to ready. We’ll get there.”

Dean felt himself sliding backward, until he was lying flat on his back, his legs spread and bent on either side of him. Cas shifted around and draped his body across Dean’s. He kissed him roughly, then began a downward path with his mouth. He stopped along the way, lingering at certain parts, and leaving Dean squirming.

He licked the inside of Dean’s thigh and Dean twisted his body, trying to get Cas closer to his cock, and was shocked when Cas complied. It had seemed torturously slow, this descent, and yet it still took him by surprise when Cas wrapped his mouth around his hard cock without hesitation, licking a stripe from his balls up the underside of his shaft to his head and then taking him all in.

It was…indescribable. He bucked his hips up and must have gagged Cas, but he didn’t even flinch. He just opened his eyes and stared right at him. Looking into his blue eyes, it was exactly as Dean had imagined, but infinitely better.

He tried to hold still even though Cas was pulling off of him, until it was just light swirling licks to the head. Cas reached for something at the foot of the bed and then Dean felt a single lube-slicked finger against his hole. Cas began to work at him from both ends in infinitesimally small increments, first just circling around his opening with one finger while letting the head of Dean’s cock loll in his mouth.

Cas laid his free right hand flat against Dean’s stomach, and kept his eyes on Dean’s as he ever so gently pressed into him, wrapping his mouth more tightly around his cock as he did so. Dean moaned and reached out, setting both hands into Cas’s hair.

He let Dean take control, guiding the motions and slowly moving Cas’s mouth further down, at the same time pressing himself further down onto Cas’s finger. When he was almost completely in, Cas took over, bobbing his head on Dean’s cock while working his finger inside him, prepping him for the next step.

Dean felt so good he barely noticed when the second finger slipped in. Cas let him take control again anyway, patiently waiting until Dean worked both his fingers in, watching him all the while with those huge blue eyes. When he was past the knuckle on both, Cas crooked his two fingers while simultaneously taking Dean’s cock deep into his throat.

The pressure and pleasure that had been building up until that moment ignited with such force that Dean literally saw stars, and then realized that he was about to come.

“I’m gonna –“ and no sooner had he said that then Cas lifted his mouth off him and said “Not yet.” The hand that was spread across Dean’s torso lit up and suddenly Dean felt something that was unlike anything else he’d ever felt before.

All of the feeling that was building up in his cock radiated out through his body, reaching his fingers and toes. It was like a full body orgasm, only his dick was still hard and he was ready for more.

Every nerve ending was alight with feeling, every hair standing on end, but he still wanted Cas closer, enveloping him. His hands, still caught in Cas’s hair, pushed him down toward his now abandoned cock, but Cas resisted the movement.

Instead, he reached with his right arm and clasped one of Dean’s wrists, then the other, before bringing them down to rest on Dean’s stomach. He kept them there, his grip loose but firm, and Dean whimpered.

His whimper became a moan as Cas began working his fingers in and out of Dean’s ass, one finger straightened while the other stayed crooked, hitting that spot that even now made Dean’s vision blurry. “I want you to feel this. Only this.”

And he did, though he also felt his whole body humming, the lingering effect of whatever the hell Cas had done with his redirected orgasm no less strong.

Cas stilled then and Dean took the cue, fucking himself against Cas’s hand, and when Cas shifted out of him slightly and then pressed three fingers against him, Dean didn’t take his time. He wanted Cas’s fingers in him, wanted more than that, and he remembered what Cas wanted from him in return.

There was no room for pride here. If Cas wanted him to beg, then fuck, he would beg.

“Please, Cas, I need more. I need your cock. Please, please, I need you.” And Cas groaned as he let Dean’s hands go, then sprawled his body out over Dean’s and swallowed his words with his mouth. He cradled Dean’s face with his right hand while his left slowly eased out of Dean’s ass, leaving him empty and wanting.

The anticipation was almost too much, and Dean’s opening was wet and ready when Cas pressed the head of his cock against it. Cas laid still for a moment before pressing in, just looking at Dean with an expression that housed so many feelings it was difficult to make out what was what.

There was a hint of trepidation, which shouldn’t have been surprising since this was Cas’s first time, and yet was because Dean had completely forgotten that fact. Up until this point, everything Cas had done made it seem as if he had been doing this for centuries. Only now did Dean remember how significant this was for him – for both of them. He had to keep this thought in mind to stop himself from grabbing Cas’s ass with both hands and slamming into him.

There was hunger too in Cas’s expression, but more than anything, the look on his face was something like wonder. He began whispering sounds that Dean thought at first were nonsense syllables, but then realized must have been Enochian, then started mixing in bits of English. “Breathtaking. Beautiful. Perfect.”

Cas stared into his eyes and then Dean felt that blissful pressure, as Cas slid the head of his cock into him, leaving him sighing with relief and contentment.  Dean stayed still just a second longer and then couldn’t take it anymore, wrapping his hands around Cas’s hips and thrusting upward as he shoved Cas in as far as he could go. He let out a sound that was halfway between a grunt and a roar, and reveled in the intensity of the feeling before realizing that Cas’s expression had changed.

There was something like panic in Cas’s eyes and that look was followed by something like a plea. “Dean?”

Without thinking, Dean hooked his legs onto either side of Cas’s body and rolled them both over, thankfully keeping Cas buried deep inside of him. He took Cas’s face in his hands and kissed him.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay, I got you.”

The panic melted and in its place was a look that was dazed, almost drugged, and Cas began talking but drifted off before he finished the thought. “I didn’t know…”

Dean didn’t have to ask what he meant. He couldn’t imagine what Cas was going through right now, if it was half as intense as what he was feeling, and his first time – God, it must have been like learning to swim in a tidal wave.

His skin still singing, and all fear of what turned out to be an exquisitely pleasurable experience now gone, Dean felt more than ready to take the helm and guide Cas through this. He wanted to, couldn’t believe he had the opportunity to do this for his angel, and he wanted Cas to feel just as incredible as he felt.

He stilled himself on Cas’s cock and leaned back, sliding his hands down from Cas’s face to his chest and forming a slightly obtuse angle with their bodies. He waited for Cas to let the intensity wash over him, for his eyes to become clearer, and only when he saw that and felt hands resting against his hips, did he begin to move.

At first he moved slowly, not only for Cas’s sake but also for his own, savoring every inch as he slid up and down and then began rolling his hips in a steady rhythm.

Dean got a wicked thought, but waited until he was absolutely sure that Cas could handle it. When he felt the grip on his hips get tighter, and Cas thrusting back into him, he decided it was time.

“This is what you wanted, right?” he said, as he brought one hand toward himself, letting it smooth over his abs until it reached his cock. “You said you wanted to watch me touch myself while you fucked me.” Cas’s eyes grew wide and he made unrecognizable noises as Dean began to pump his own cock in pace with their rhythm.

Every movement brought a sea of sensation, his skin still tingling and the feeling of both cocks moving in concert, inside and outside of him. His own cock sliding in and out of his hand, while Cas’s filled him from the inside, and as if that wasn’t enough, Cas began vibrating – literally vibrating – sending his body into shudders. He loosened the grip on his dick, it was just too much, and focused wholly on the cock that was now quivering against his sweet spot. It was still too much, and he closed his eyes and stilled, not able to take another thrust. The vibrations died down, and Dean opened his eyes to look at the angel lying prone underneath him.

There was nothing but hunger in Cas’s eyes now, hunger and adoration. He reached his hand up and pressed it over the tattoo on Dean’s shoulder in an echo of the movement he made when he first saw it. He looked at it for a moment, simultaneously astonished and possessive, and his deep voice resonated with a single word. “Mine.”

“Yes.” Dean wanted to say more – _yes, since the moment you touched me, yes, before I ever knew it, yes, and always will be_ , but all he could say was, “Yes,” and “Always” and he repeated this until he suddenly found himself on his back. Across the room. On a desk.

The desk had definitely been full of things before, computers and papers and a phone and maybe a lamp, but now it was completely clear. Another victim of celestial intent, and that intent was now laser focused on fucking Dean as hard as he could take.

Dean looked up at Cas, who was standing straight up with Dean’s legs on either side of him, his blue eyes wild, and for the first time Dean thought that he understood the original meaning of the word “awesome.” He didn’t have much room for coherent thought though, as Cas slammed into him again and again, banging the desk against the wall every time, though Cas’s hand held the top of Dean’s head, keeping him from following suit. It was comforting to know that Cas was still looking after him, even as he was ravaging him like this, and Dean knew that if he wanted to stop or slow down, he could. Probably. But there was no way he wanted to stop.

The sounds they made now were raw, animalistic, but there was something else too in the background. A slight ringing sound that was picking up in volume. Cas began to vibrate again and this time Dean relaxed into it, moaning deeply as each thrust lit him up from multiple angles – Cas’s cock reaching deep inside him while the full body vibrations sent scintillating sensations each time his own cock bounced against Cas’s stomach.

Every inch of him felt like it was already in the throes of release, had felt that way to some extent since the moment when Cas’s had laid his hand down on him and sent his orgasm straight back into his body. Yet he knew that what was coming was going to be even bigger, more powerful, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment just to brace himself, before opening them up again.

When he did, he thought for a second that maybe he was hallucinating, or his eyes had just stopped working. Neither of those things would have really surprised him. But he quickly registered that it was just Cas, and even as his body was revving up to its climax, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the sight before him.

Cas’s skin had become iridescent, his blue eyes even bluer, sparkling like gems. Around him, something was happening to the air, light was bending in the space surrounding him as if refracted through water.

The ringing sound grew louder, and Cas clasped both sides of Dean’s ears as they both came. Dean came in thick streams splattering both of their stomachs, and as he felt Cas pouring into him, the room became suffused with light.

He realized what that disturbance in the air had been when he saw them, just as he had the first time they’d met, the shadows of wings taking up the entirety of the room’s ceilings and walls, barely contained in it. The whole picture before him was the most terrifyingly beautiful thing Dean had ever seen.

Cas’s hands slipped off Dean’s ears as he fell in a slump on top of him. Cas wasn’t vibrating anymore, not exactly, but they were both trembling. The ringing had died down somewhat, though there was still a different kind of whaling sound in Dean’s ears, and the light in Cas’s skin had dimmed somewhat, though it remained otherworldly.

Dean felt a sudden urge to say something flippant, like “Not bad,” or “Hey, we should do that again sometime.” But when he tried, all that came out was “Mmpphh.” It was probably for the best.

Cas spoke first, lifting his head off Dean’s chest just long enough to look him in the eye and say “I love you,” before falling back down again. They breathed together for a little while, and Dean realized that, though he never doubted Cas’s feelings for him, this was the first time he had actually said those words.

He wrapped his legs and arms tight around Cas’s body and kissed him on the side of the head. “I love you, too,” came Dean’s hoarse reply, and he realized that he must have been screaming at the very end as he came, though he was barely aware of it and couldn’t hear it at all over Cas’s true voice.

Dean then recognized the sound that had come to replace Cas’s voice, the sound that was still grating his ears. “Are those car alarms?”

Cas grunted and looked up at him and then all at once they heard a thunderous crash, and the sound of a woman screaming.

At this, they both jerked up. Even now, they were battle ready as ever. “I have to go,” Cas said, and then in a flash, he was gone. Dean sat naked on the desk and eyed the pile of clothes on the floor, which was now missing Cas’s familiar pieces.

“Geez, talk about fuck and run,” he said aloud to no one in particular, though in truth he was just as eager to figure out what had just happened as Cas was. Still, he could’ve gotten Dean’s clothing on him, too.

He attempted to hop off the desk and was immediately thwarted, his legs almost going out from underneath him. It would have been embarrassing if anyone had seen him, and Dean still felt a little embarrassed as he braced himself against the desk to keep his wobbling legs from failing him again.

He took a few deep breaths, until the trembling died down and he felt like he may be able to walk, and then stumbled inelegantly toward his clothes. He didn’t bother with underwear, could barely get his jeans on, and instead of putting his shirt on, he crumbled it up and used it to mop up the come that was still spread across his upper body.

Shoeless and unsteady, he headed out the front door. The car alarms had stopped ringing, though there were a few people standing outside their motel rooms, looking into the parking lot and likely trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. He wanted to know that too, but he didn’t have to wait long.

Cas appeared by his side, and thankfully the motel occupants seemed to be too focused on their cars to notice his sudden presence. He was dressed, trench coat and all, but still looked disheveled and blissed out.

“There appeared to have been a minor explosion. A power line went down. No one was injured, though several cars were crushed. One woman witnessed it, and was understandably disturbed.” The scream. Okay, good, no one was hurt. “I fixed it all and then wiped her memory, so everything should be fine. Though we should probably be more careful in the future. Fortifying the room may have had unintended consequences.”

“Wait, what? You mean, you did this?”

“Well,” and then Cas switched from his matter-of-fact reporting mode to a more playful tone, looking up at him with flirty eyes, “I think technically, you did it. At least, you were the cause of it.”

He stood there, still startled, while Cas laid a quick kiss on his lips and then turned and walked back into the hotel room.

Deans’ eyes swept across the scene in front of him, making sure everything was really okay, and noting that all the motel occupants had returned to their rooms. All but one.

Standing outside his door on the opposite side of the building but still in his line of sight, wearing the mother of all bitchfaces, was Sammy. 

Sam seemed as stunned as Dean, and also rather horrified, and that broke Dean’s silence. He cracked up laughing, thinking that he probably should have told Sammy to go to another motel instead of just telling him to get another room. The opposite side of the building was just not far enough. He’d surely heard at least some of what went on – everyone in the building and maybe a few nearby buildings had.

Even if he hadn’t heard, which was impossible, it was probably more than a little traumatic for him to see Dean like this, shirtless and freshly fucked, still glistening with sweat and absolutely euphoric.

Dean plastered on a huge smile and nodded at Sammy, who still just stood there, motionless. He couldn’t resist. Dean winked and pointed at himself, mouthing the words “I did that,” and that finally got Sam moving.

He didn’t have to hear Sam to know the huffy sound he was making as he hung his head down, long hair flopping on either side of him. In a posture of total defeat, he walked back into his room. Dean was still laughing when Sam returned less than a minute later with his duffel bag, and walked to the Impala.

Poor bastard. He couldn’t blame him, and didn’t even care that he wanted to drive his baby away. Dean reached into his pocket and threw the keys at him, and Sam caught them while still avoiding eye contact. 

He was bent over laughing, even as he wobbled back into the motel room. He could hear the familiar sound of his engine starting up. Cas, who was standing in the middle of the room and still frustratingly clothed, looked at him and tilted his head.

“I let him take the car. He deserves it. You know, if it wasn’t for him, none of this would be happening.”

He couldn’t believe that was really true, but it was. The possibility that he could live his whole life without experiencing this was just completely absurd, and to think he’d almost let that happen for…he couldn’t even remember what the hell he’d been so worked up over. It was all so dumb.

“Well, then, I believe I owe Sam my gratitude.”

“Yeah, that makes two of us. Well, at least he doesn’t have to hear us again tonight.”

Cas raised his eyebrows. “Again?”

“Yeah, well, not now, obviously. I can barely stand up.” He flopped down on the bed, and Cas, walked over and scooted in beside him. “And no pressure, or anything, but…I think I’ll want to do that again as soon as it’s physically possible.”

“Yeah,” Cas sighed dreamily, and he fell into the curve of Dean’s arm.

“But for now, let’s just rest, okay? And do something about this.” He tugged at Cas’s coat, and Cas actually got the hint and had them both naked in a blink. “Ahh, that’s better.”

“Definitely.”

Though it certainly should not have been physically possible, the sight of Cas’s perfect naked body stirred something within him, and Dean began thinking of all the things that they still hadn’t even done. He had barely touched Cas, hadn’t even tasted his cock, hadn’t come in his mouth, hadn’t come inside him…God, the list was endless. He wanted to do all of it, and then take a nap, have a snack, and do all of it again.

Despite being utterly spent, he began kissing Cas, in a less than restful way, and sliding his hands up and down his body. He wanted to memorize every curve and angle, discover every spot that made him writhe and moan, wanted to know his body as well as Cas already knew his. Cas began to respond, but then pulled back from their kiss.

“What is it?”

Cas’s brow furrowed. “Well, I am concerned about the consequences of our actions. We could effect significant damage if this continues.”

It was a fair concern, but it still made Dean throw his head back and laugh.

“Maybe we should try to harness it. It could be the ultimate weapon against evil. We could fuck our way through vamp nests and demon lairs.”

Cas looked at him, as if seriously considering. “That seems implausible.”

“Aww, come on.”

The angel’s expression lightened, and he added, “Well, though it is unlikely, I do believe it is worthy of investigation. We should probably research the matter.”

Victory! “Well, I never thought I’d be so happy to say these words, but…” Dean caught Cas’s lips in his own and darted his tongue out just to taste him again before continuing, “…let’s do some research.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to say thank you so much to everyone who read this, and especially to everyone who left kudos and comments! This was my first ever fanfic and it has been an awesome experience. I am still learning, so please do feel free to provide any constructive comments or general fanfic writing tips. In retrospect, I think I probably should have made the chapters shorter, and I know I should have a "beta reader" but I'm still not exactly sure how that whole thing works. Umm...anyway, in conclusion, hooray!! You guys rock. Long live Destiel and bi pride!


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